


Barren of Itself

by thunder_fish



Series: A Moment of Silence [3]
Category: Ben 10 Series, Cartoon Network Universe: FusionFall, Dexter's Laboratory, Powerpuff Girls
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 39,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1669298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunder_fish/pseuds/thunder_fish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tormented, abused, and discarded by the Fusion Dexter, there was little left for Albedo except revenge. Since the Fusion isn't available, his target is set on the next best thing: Dexter. Getting back at someone, however, isn't always quite as easy as it may seem, especially when Ben10 has something to say about it. Contains Ben/Dexter slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Romance/Adventure

_"Oh, Ben!" cried Dexter, placing one small, trembling hand over his own racing heart and reaching out to grasp Ben's arm with the other. "Oh, Ben," he repeated, his lashes beaded with tears as he looked up into Ben's emerald orbs. His cerulean eyes shone bright and though he tried to speak normally, the best he could manage was a throaty whisper as he confessed, "I love you."_

_Wonder and joy filled Ben's face as he stared wide-eyed at the handsome young genius. Could it be? Was this real? Had all his hopes and dreams come true in this moment? It was too wonderful, too amazing and sweet to be believed. For a few seconds he could only stare, and then he pulled Dexter into his arms and said the words he'd been longing to say:_

_"I love you, too, Dexter."_

_It was as if time had stopped for the two lovers. As the ship burned around them, they were lost in one another's gaze. It wasn't until the ship lurched, throwing Dexter full length against Ben, that they came back to the danger threatening their lives and their new-found love. Fear shone in Dexter's sky-blue eyes as Ben clutched him close, trying to shield him with his own body. The Titan-haired youth cried out_ , " _No! This isn't fair! I won't_ \- Benjamin, stop that. This is no laughing matter. We're about to meet our doom."

Ben lowered his hands from his face, unable to stop laughing at the notion that he had emerald orbs versus green eyes. Since he was still stuck in the hospital wing he was trying his best to be quiet, but it was hopeless. The last thing he had ever expected when Dexter arrived for his usual visit was a dramatic reading of one of Bubbles' Bexter fanfics. The cheesy dialogue and the over-the-top, poetic descriptions, all delivered in Dexter's thick accent and deadpan tone of voice, was far more than Ben Tennyson could handle or contain. Beside him, Dexter sat stony-faced, and one glance at the Titan-haired youth was quite enough to set him off again. Dexter yanked a pillow from beneath Ben's head to playfully smack him with it. Grabbing it, he crushed it to his face with both hands, trying to stifle the hysterics. Finally, exhausted, he emerged.

"How are you not laughing your ass off?" panted Ben faintly.

"Iron self-discipline," was the ruthless reply, delivered in a perfectly bland voice.

"You're Titan-haired?"

"Everyone knows the Titans were redheads. It makes for better epic reading than carrot-topped. Nobody wants a ginger god."

As Ben snorted and fought for a little bit of control, Dexter cleared his throat and found where he had left off.

_"No! This isn't fair! I won't lose you now that I know you love me back, Ben!"_

_"I loved you from the moment I saw you, Dexter! And I promise I'll get you out of here."_

_"But how, Ben?"_

_The chocolate-haired teen gripped Dexter's arms in a firm grasp. "Dexter, do you trust me?"_

"Do I really say your name that much, Dexter?" asked Ben.

The genius never skipped a beat. "No, Ben, you don't. Nor does your hair taste like chocolate. Resuming: _Completely, my love."_

_"Then hold on! I'm going to go hero!"_

That cut it. Ben Tennyson was done for. Laughing so hard he could barely draw a breath, he waved at Dexter to get him to stop before he pulled a muscle. Dexter stared at him, and the Great Sphinx or a moai could not hope to rival his stony expression.

"Ben, please. Control yourself. I'm only two pages into the saga. There are thirty-eight more to go, and this is just the first installment of Bubbles' latest _magnum opus_. We haven't gotten to the part where Mandark tries to steal my affections and failing that, poisons you."

Ben wheezed, sprawling on the soft bed. There were tears in his eyes. Dexter smacked him over the head with the stack of pages.

"Stop that. Crying is apparently _my_ prerogative. By the looks of things, I average one irrational tear-up every five to six pages."

"What are you cryin' about, Dex?"

"You, mostly. You spend a lot of the story hovering near death."

"Hopefully life won't imitate art. Skip to the part where you stick your tongue in my ear."

He snorted. "Please. This is Bubbles. The love scenes are pure vanilla and completely sanitized. The only thing that gets naked here is the truth."

"Says the guy who likes to have his back scrubbed in the shower." Ben shifted so his head hung off the side of the bed, allowing him to watch Dexter upside-down.

"Stretching?" wondered the Boy Genius.

"Change of venue." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "How about you read between the lines and give me a sample of French vanilla?"

The younger teen pretended to glare over the brim of the paper he held. "You just want my tongue in your ear."

"Guilty as charged. Ear, mouth, I'm not fussy. Just not up my nose."

Dexter made a face. "Not even I'm going there." He held up the fanfic. "Shall I?"

"Fire away. I'd rather die from laughing than boredom."

"Mmm. If you're going to die, you may as well have fun. So. _Keeping one arm tight around Dexter's shoulders, the Wielder of the Omnitrix quickly activated the alien device even as an explosion from the dying vessel tore through the cell detaining them. . ."_

Confined to a bed after surgery on his shoulder, Ben Tennyson was being uncommonly patient in the hopes that Dr. Cardon would develop something like mercy and release him to Professor Utonium's care. A checkup later today with the head of DexLabs Medical would determine if he was going to go home with Dexter to finish recovery and – something he wasn't looking forward to – start physical therapy, or be stuck where he was doing physical therapy.

The encounter with Albedo had messed his shoulder up to the point where surgery was a necessity. The encounter with Kevin, on the other hand, had been somewhat therapeutic. Seeing Dexter blow Levin clean out of the water - and all in the name of _don't you mess with my boyfriend_ \- had definitely been a highlight of Ben's teenage years. Upon returning to Downtown, he had been whisked away to DexLabs Medical where he'd basically signed away his life to Dr. Cardon. The doctor had resisted the urge to strangle Ben for his own good before subjecting him to every test and scan known to science. The end results were completely expected. Ben had been given two choices: surgery now to repair the damage to tendons and rotator cuff followed by physical therapy for a few weeks and months with the expectation of full recovery, or weeks and months of pain and physical therapy followed by surgery followed by yet more physical therapy with the expectation of partial recovery because you were an idiot and put off a necessary procedure.

Couched in such inelegant terms (Cardon obviously didn't write fanfic), Ben had decided to save himself a lot of grief and dirty looks (not to mention pain) and opted for surgery now. He was glad he had – he was feeling better already, though the forced bed rest was getting to him and the physical therapy was not fun. The memory of what Dexter had endured after Vilgax's attack, however, kept him from complaining too much. No matter how bad he thought he had it, Dexter's situation had been worse, a lot worse, and the effects were still being felt.

At sixteen years old, Dexter should have been Ben's height, or at least close to it. All the annoyances of having his voice break and growing pains and the other joys of puberty should have been making his life a living hell. So many things should have been, but were not. It was strange that physical maturity (since intellect-wise Dexter was a grown adult) would be of secondary importance, but it was. Ben was so grateful and relieved that Dexter was alive. Knowing his boyfriend would not age normally bothered Ben not at all, though he knew it disappointed Dexter. The Professor was optimistic that Dexter's system would stabilize and return to normal once the hormone treatment was finished, giving the redhead a chance of getting a little taller, at least. Ben smiled. He liked the sheer smallness of Dexter, though heaven knew the kid needed to eat more.

Still dangling off the bed, Ben could see just a tuft of unruly Titan-colored hair over the top of the paper and small hands in purple gloves - no, wait, _amethyst_ _gauntlets_. It was Dexter's voice that held his attention though, and for once that insane accent wasn't involved. It was a child's voice, a little high-pitched, with inflection and stresses that defied all sense. Ben just listened, happier than he'd ever been as he let that voice charm him, thinking that he could listen to Dexter read to him forever.

Forever. The word struck Ben. He was thinking about forever with Dexter. A lifetime of listening to that childish voice read fanfic to him. Would it ever be enough? Forever. With Dexter. Yes. It fit. It worked. He wanted it.

Awkward for being upside down, Ben fumbled to grab the page out of Dexter's hands, then had to content himself with simply pulling the page down so he could see the younger teen. Dexter paused, waiting to see what his boyfriend wanted of him. He stared, taking in the fair skin and bright eyes and pert features. Yeah. He could grow old with that.

"I love you," he whispered, meaning it as never before.

Dexter looked at him curiously, plainly wondering what epiphany had brought on this declaration. A small smile teased his lips as he said in kind, "I love you too, Ben."

He felt himself grin and almost started laughing again as he realized Dexter thought he was referencing the story. Growing serious he said, "I mean that."

The genius' expression softened. "So do I."

"Guess Bubbles isn't too far off the mark."

"No, just excessively maudlin and dramatic."

"So I really don't have emerald orbs?"

Dexter leaned in for a closer look, his own eyes narrowing behind tinted glasses. "Mmm . . . no. More like chlorophyll. Much sexier to a biologist."

"You romantic devil. Kiss me."

He shook his head. "Someone might see."

"But they probably won't."

If nothing else, Dexter was not afraid to take risks, and at that moment he took one, raising the printout to block them from sight of anyone that might be passing by the hospital room. So Ben not only got what he wanted, but this time, at least, he was absolutely right.


	2. Chapter 1: Fantasy / Friction

He tried to raise his head, but all he managed was to stir slightly. The place where he lay was cold and damp and he could not easily recall how or why he came to be here. Movement brought pain, and it was better to keep still and assess his situation before trying to participate in it.

_**()()()()()()()()()()** _

_He stared into the steaming cup of coffee, trying to distract himself with an exercise in thermodynamics by calculating how long it would take before the liquid was at room temperature. He would never get an answer, because he was far more interested in drinking the coffee than seeing if he was right._

_Another mug of coffee was set on the table as his father joined him. The Professor smiled, and Dexter knew that something in his expression piqued his father's interest._

_"What's on your mind?" was his quiet greeting._

_Dexter sighed and tightly replied, "I'm sixteen years old and my drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend is living with us. You_ know _what's on my mind, Dad."_

_"Ah." He hid a smile behind his coffee mug, gulping the hot liquid as Mr. Green came into the lounge for his own dose of caffeine. "Friction."_

_Dexter grumbled in agreement, grateful that the Professor was not the sort to get uptight over his desire for a sex life and his growing frustration at the lack thereof. Catching that last word, Green turned, coffee pot in hand as he came to refresh their cups. "Friction?" he asked, ever the teacher. "That's not in your lesson plan until February unless you have some specific questions."_

_"Uh, no, I'm good, thank you very much," Dexter hastened to say, making a face at his father. Utonium chuckled, but his sympathy was evident. He waited for the demon to leave before speaking._

_"I hear you. I was sixteen once too."_

_"Yeah, but was your boyfriend sleeping two rooms down from you?"_

_"Well, no, but then I never had a boyfriend."_

_"Fair enough."_

_"You're frustrated. I know. It doesn't help that Ben's been through so much lately."_

_"No help at all," he agreed through clenched teeth._

_"Patience, Dexter. Ben needs time. It's not easy, but it'll be worth the wait."_

_"It had better be."_

_"If not, it's a good excuse to practice 'til you get it right."_

_A little snort escaped the redhead and he ducked his head as he laughed at his father's very matter-of-fact tone. Finally he looked up with a smile._

_"I'm so glad I have you," said the teen in a moment of undisguised love._

_Utonium gazed at him with the same depth of adoration, saluting with his coffee mug. "Ditto."_

_**()()()()()()()()()()** _

The ground beneath him was cold and uneven and gritty. He could smell dirt – something he rarely encountered – and an underlying whiff of sulfur and rot. Was it stone beneath him? Hard-packed earth? It didn't matter. He kept his eyes closed, afraid to see what he knew would be there: darkness. It was one of the many things he desperately wished he didn't fear, but he had come to accept the fact that he had phobias the way most people had petty annoyances. In some situations and on some days, he was practically used to a steady state of anxiety. Had he been feeling one whit better, he would have been consumed by his phobias right now because this setting addressed many of the things he feared: dark, dirt, germs, an unknown place, being removed from the few people he trusted. It was a terrifying prospect for him.

_**()()()()()()()()()()** _

_Dexter had never thought it would come to this._

_He was thoroughly, completely jealous of a smoothie.  
_

_A banana-orange smoothie, to be exact. Ben had gotten it from the cafeteria in DexLabs and now sat in the laboratory, keeping Dexter company and practically making love to it. Not a smoothie aficionado, Dexter had to take Ben's word that the DexLabs version was almost as good as the ones from Mr. Smoothie. Dexter tried not to look as a little hum of pleasure rose up from Ben's location by the environmental control unit, but it was Ben and he could not resist even if he knew he'd regret it._

_Eyes closed, smoothie clasped close to his chest, Ben sipped on the straw with something close to hedonistic pleasure. His long legs were stretched out before him and he was thoroughly relaxed and open, as sensuous as he was serene. Staring at those lips, those hands, the expression of pure enjoyment, Dexter felt his blood pressure on the rise. He shouldn't have looked, but how could he not? It was Ben, after all, and there was no getting enough of him even if watching him was enough to drive Dexter mad._

_The past few weeks had ranked high among the happiest times of Dexter's life. He had never known such complete bliss before. Having Ben living here at DexLabs was about as close to paradise as things could get on this plane. They had breakfast together with the girls and the Professor every morning before Ben went off to physical therapy and training recruits while Dexter had classes and ran his company. In the evenings Ben would annoy Dexter as he did homework or caught up on work. From the start Ben had established eight o'clock as quitting time for all things sciencey. The evening might belong to DexLabs, but the night belonged to Bexter._

_Ownership, however, was not all that Dexter would have liked. Since reestablishing their relationship, things had been moving along at a slow but steady pace until Kevin Levin's assault had put the kibosh on progress. At least progress in the sense of getting a bit more action than necking and cuddling (though he had a fine assortment of hickeys, thank you, Mr. Tennyson). It was a difficult situation, and now that so much exposure to Ben had erased all uncertainty and doubt, Dexter had a much better understanding of what his boyfriend had been feeling toward him up to the point where Levin had tried to force himself on Ben. Want was the best word he could come up with to describe what he was feeling. It was all-consuming, at once delicious and infuriating. He wanted Ben, his touch and heat. It seemed only natural that things should move toward -_

Sex, Dex. The word you're looking for is s-e-x, sex.

_"Shut up," muttered Dexter to Ben's voice in his head. The one thing he wanted most right now was the one thing he couldn't ask for. Ben had to make that first move. There was nothing else for it._

_Now more than ever, he really wanted to kill Kevin Levin._

_"Hmm?" asked Ben in a dreamy hum. "Who you talking to, Dex?"_

_"Myself," he snapped, mentally kicking himself for speaking aloud._

_Ben frowned. "But . . . you didn't say anything."_

_"It was preemptive."_

_"Ah."_

_"Yeah. Ah."_

_A smile lit his boyfriend's face, and Dexter almost screamed in frustration as Ben wrapped his lips around that straw again and sucked down more of that damned smoothie. He swallowed when Ben did, and he could not have focused on the fighter he was designing if his life depended on it. So much for science. Love - or lust - apparently did conquer all._

_"You okay?" Ben asked after a moment of being stared at like he was a t-bone and Dexter hadn't seen food in a month._

_No, he wasn't. Not even slightly. He had never imagined he'd fall prey to the very normal, very human desire to get laid, and that realization was shocking and mildly appalling._

_"I need a shower."_

_Green eyes - or were they emerald orbs? - grew wide and eager. Instantly he volunteered, "Want your back scrubbed?"_

_"Among other things."_

_Needless to say, Ben brought the smoothie into the shower with him._

_The next day, disaster struck._

_The smoothie machine broke._

_**()()()()()()()()()()** _

Mastering himself and his fears, Dexter opened his eyes. The darkness was not as complete as he'd expected. There was a faint glow that became more pronounced the longer he stared. Details of his location and situation were vague yet, but he recognized the form moving toward him, silhouetted against the light, and he felt a rush of relief.

"Ben?"

_**()()()()()()()()()()** _

_The moment Ben got the tragic news, withdrawal set in. Death was imminent but avoidable, and only one cure was available. So it was a mission of mercy that prompted them to elude Dexter's many keepers and sneak out of DexLabs for smoothies._

_Dexter still needed to walk slowly for any great distance, and Ben shortened his pace to match the younger teen's. Mr. Smoothie's was little more than a mile outside of DexLabs, and while Big Chill could have flown them there in a minute, Dexter preferred a more mundane mode of transportation that allowed him to enjoy his boyfriend's company. They walked close together; close enough to occasionally brush against one another in silent display that anyone watching would have taken as accidental contact. Despite their focus on one another, both young men stayed alert, Ben especially since he was responsible for talking Dexter into stepping out of his laboratory. Dexter knew perfectly well that he was going to be in a world of trouble when he returned to DexLabs - if his father or Mr. Green or Sgt. Morton didn't send every security guard on the force out to haul him back in - but for him it was worth getting grounded to make Ben happy. Tennyson, meanwhile, had signed his own death warrant with Dr. Cardon by using the Omnitrix to transform into Big Chill long enough to fly them off the campus. Under the radar they were not, and so they enjoyed this brief taste of freedom all the more because they knew it wouldn't last._

_"So, Ben," Dexter said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "if you could do anything in the world tonight, what would it be?"_

_"Anything?" queried Ben._

_Dexter smiled and repeated, "Anything."_

_Ben thought for a few moments, a smile playing on his lips and sly mischief in his green eyes. He had a good idea of what was going through the younger teen's mind of late and he had slowly built up the nerve to try to do something to accommodate them both. He knew Dexter was waiting for him, and he was immensely grateful for the space and patience he had been afforded since . . . Kevin._

_"Anything? Anything at all?" he confirmed._

_That gleam in his eyes told Dexter that this was not going to remain clean for very long. He nodded, waiting for his boyfriend to try and shock him._

_"Blueberry and lemon smoothie," listed Ben, sneaking a glance at the redhead. "Then we go back to your rooms and spend an hour or three in the shower and then go have wildsexuntilyouscreammyname and after that order a pizza and eat it all andthenhavesexagain."_

_"What was that last?" pressed Dexter innocently._

_"Havesexagain," Ben repeated in a rush, as if saying it quickly would lessen the impact._

_Putting on a thoughtful mien, Dexter very seriously asked, "What toppings on the pizza?"_

_Not about to be out-cooled by a Titan-haired genius in glasses and more than capable of playing this game, Ben immediately said, "Pepperoni."_

_"Mmm."_

_"Black olives."_

_"Good."_

_"Onions."_

_"Yum."_

_"Green peppers."_

_It was like slamming on the brakes. The scientist stopped in his tracks._

_"Oh, no, Mr. Tennyson." Dexter raised his gloved hands in protest. "No green peppers for you."_

_"I love green peppers!"_

_"That's as may be, but I for one don't love what they do to your digestion."_

_"Hey! What are you saying here?"_

_"You know what I'm talking about!"_

_He looked down at his stomach, then at his companion. "You're insulting my digestive system?"_

_Trying hard not to laugh, Dexter said, "Yes. It's rude."_

_Ben clasped his arms around his middle as if shielding his belly from further affronts. Dexter made a face at the overly dramatic show._

_"It's not your stomach I have issue with, nor your stomach which has issue, for that matter." He pointed a purple-gloved finger. "You'll notice the Professor hasn't served chili the whole time you've been here."_

_"Hey, whose fantasy is being wrecked here?"_

_"Fantasy?" he wondered. "Not wrecked. Adjusted." He stamped his foot. "Einstein's sake, just pick a different topping!"_

_"Uh-uh. Green peppers or the whole deal's off."_

_Dexter stared, flabbergasted._

_"What?" demanded Ben, not over the slurs cast at his innards but knowing a gaping Dexter was leading to some sort of revelation. "My fantasy, Dex. What have I got to lose?"_

_There was a prolonged pause as Dexter struggled to find the words. Finally he managed to ask, "Uh . . . virginity?"_

"What?"

_Hardly able to believe his ears, Dexter asked, "Really, Ben? You'd forgo multiple rounds of wild sex for a few slices of green pepper?"_

_He paused, alerted by Dexter's tone. Though he spoke lightly, the genius was serious, as much about what pizza topping to order as about fulfilling Ben's wish. Talk of pizza was simply an oblique approach to the greater, much-anticipated promise of . . . sex. With Dexter. As his brain caught up with his body, Ben felt his heart speed up and a few other physical attributes quicken in turn as he eagerly ordered,_

_"Define multiple."_

_"More than two?" suggested the redhead, watching closely to see if Ben was coming around to his way of thinking._

_Ben was silent, pulling a few faces as he turned over the conversation in his mind. Raising a finger, he drew a deep breath, cleared his throat, and said, "Allow me to rephrase my answer."_

_"Of course. Would you like me to repeat the question?"_

_"Please."_

_"Mr. Tennyson, if you could do anything in the world tonight, what would it be?"_

_Without hesitation he said, "I'd do you."_

_He was rewarded with a sly, almost coy smile. "I have the Downtown Pizzeria on speed dial. And while we're on the subject of topping . . ."_

_He was positively dizzy as he asked, "Yes?"_

_Dexter beamed. "Thank you for volunteering."_

_His imagination exploded into action as the vast majority of his fantasies started coming true. "I really like where this conversation is going, Dex. Are you sure?"_

_In all seriousness, Dexter answered with a question of his own. "Are you?"_

_He heard all the unasked questions, all the worry and deep concern. Was he past Kevin's attack? Was he ready for a step this huge? There was no going back from something like this. Ben was certain that Dexter, despite being almost three years younger, was more than ready. Heck, if Kevin hadn't happened, they probably would have crossed this bridge – this lovely, wonderful, frightening, exciting bridge – months ago. Still, Dexter was a minor and given his small build, Ben couldn't help but think of him as fragile even if he had shown time and again that he was as tough as nails._

_"Only if you are."_

_"_ Very _sure," promised Dexter._

_It was all a matter of waiting for the right moment and getting up the nerve to try. Ben knew that only because he felt exactly the same way. They had been together a lot lately - more than they'd ever enjoyed since meeting each other - and such regular, close proximity to Dexter had stirred a lot of emotion in Ben, not to mention a burning hunger that called for more than a few kisses to satisfy. Both of them had known all along that they would come to this point, and both knew to proceed with care, but the simple fact that they were pushing the relationship up a notch was stimulation in and of itself._

_"Let's," he said just as softly, his heart thrilling to the happy gleam he saw in Dexter's eyes. He let out a little laugh, trying not to sound too eager or hysterical when he actually felt giddy and almost out of control with excitement. "We could, y'know, skip the smoothie."_

_Scandalized shock was Dexter's response. "To think I have lived to hear you utter such blasphemy, Benjamin Kirby Tennyson. You intend to kiss me with that mouth?"_

_"Uh-huh. Kiss and lick and a few other things I don't want to mention in public."_

_"A compromise. We'll get smoothies and walk right back, before my dad kills us both."_

_"Seeing as how dying would be massively inconvenient to our pizza party later . . . between . . . yeah. Let's."_

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

Despite the pain in his head he stirred, sitting up partially. Dexter whispered, afraid of being overheard. "Where are we? What happened? What is this place? Ben?" he asked again when no answer was forthcoming.

The form stood before him, his stance unaccountably aggressive as he looked down. When he spoke, the voice was familiar even if the tone was not.

"Not Ben," sneered Albedo, poison in his voice as he glared down at the young man he had captured. "Not Tennyson."


	3. Chapter 2: Horror

Back when he was twelve, in that short but blissful period of time when DexLabs was in its infancy (and being run out of the Professor's basement) and Planet Fusion was just an interesting smudge on the furthest outskirts of the solar system, Dexter had taken what he felt at the time was the oddest and possibly most useless course of instruction ever. The Professor had protested, Sgt. Morton had insisted, and Mr. Green had cast the deciding vote and signed them all up without giving them the option to refuse. Thus Dexter, his guardian, his bodyguard, and his tutor were given an FBI-run course on how to behave during a hostage situation or kidnapping.

Not that Chip Morton, former Navy SEAL and experienced submariner, or Mr. Green, who as a Fire Demon could instantly teleport himself in a pillar of flames, needed any such instruction. Left to his own devices, Dexter was fairly certain his adopted father could charm anyone into submission. No, Hostage 101 had been held entirely for his benefit, and despite his doubts at the time he was grateful for his security chief's stubbornness (not to mention his advice to put his ego on a back burner for the duration of his captivity - probably the hardest aspect of any such situation in which Dexter might find himself entangled, such as now).

Be polite. Obey orders. Eat and drink what's offered and thank them afterwards. Watch. Listen. Engage them in conversation. Don't lie. Don't complain. Try to make them see you as a person, not a thing. Do whatever you must to stay alive. The list of instructions went on and on, all geared toward keeping alive long enough to be found and rescued.

In his youth and over-confidence, Dexter had never imagined actually using any of what he had learned that day (especially the 'rein in your ego' part). If anyone was prone to being kidnapped, he would have pointed to his father without hesitation. Given that the Professor was father to three ultra-super-powered heroes, it just seemed a reasonable assumption that he'd be a soft target. As he slowly sat up in the dark and dirty tunnel where he now found himself, Dexter ruefully admitted (and would do so only to himself) that he had been wrong and that hostage course was going to stand him in good stead. By the end of the day, it might even prove to be the most important thing he had ever learned.

He stared at the slim figure standing before him, barely able to make out his features. His first impression was right – this _was_ Ben, but not. Clearly he was no Fusion – Ben's Fusion was incapable of speech and rarely stood up straight. That could only mean one thing.

"You are Albedo."

He said it as a matter of fact, giving the young man every chance to contradict him, but the only answer he received was a sneer as Albedo turned away from him. With what little light there was in this hole, Dexter was able to see his profile – Ben's profile - capped by silver-white hair. He had Ben's body and Ben's grace, but his posture lacked that hint of cocky self-assurance that many people found abrasive and Dexter found completely enchanting.

"What is this place?"

Ben had told Mandy and the other leaders in the Fusion War everything he knew about Albedo, from how he came to be exiled from Galvan Prime to becoming Ben's twin to the alleged abuses he had received after being made prisoner by the Fusion Dexter during the Battle of Citiesville. It was a sad and lonely litany, made all the worse by Albedo's inability to deal with life as a human, though Ben was inclined to believe his unwilling double hadn't given it much effort. The Fusion Dexter, it seemed, had ripped apart his mind as much as his body, leaving deep scars on both. Seeing him now, looking so much like Ben, Dexter would have felt pity for Albedo if only he had not cracked him over the head and kidnapped him.

"Why am I here, Albedo?"

His eyes had adjusted to the shadows. Even so, it was difficult to tell for certain where he was. It seemed a tunnel of sorts, or a deep cave, with rough walls and hard-packed floor. The atmosphere was damp, and the air was stale. He tried not to sound frightened as he asked,

"What do you want with me?"

Slowly Albedo turned, giving Dexter a view of his face. It took every bit of self-control the scientist possessed to keep from gasping aloud. The right side of Albedo's face was horribly disfigured – burns, from acid perhaps, reached from his temple down his neck and it looked as if an animal with talons had slashed his jaw. The wounds were not fully healed and looked painful beyond words. Albedo's right eye was creased in a permanent squint and he did not have as much control over the muscles in that half of his face as the other.

"What happened to you?" breathed Dexter, unable to stop himself.

He glared. "You did."

" _Me?"_ wondered Dexter, taken aback. He knew perfectly well he had never before come into contact with the Galvan criminal and he certainly would not have had any dealings with him. He had no direct involvement in business transactions conducted by DexLabs or DexCorp. Not being old enough to enter into contracts, his contributions were strictly, legally limited to consultations and nothing more. Of course his word on projects was final, but refusals and changes he requested happened only behind closed doors and his name never appeared on paperwork or during negotiations. "I don't understand."

"How convenient," was the sharp reply. It was disconcerting to hear Ben's voice full of such venom, especially directed at him. "You've insulated yourself against the world and against all blame."

Did Albedo have any notion of the irony of his statement? The situation he now found himself in was exactly _why_ he had removed himself as much as possible from the world. Still, he was being accused, but of what he had no idea.

"And how . . . did I happen to you?" he carefully asked, his voice rising in a small squeak. He was not sure it was precisely wise to pursue this topic, but he needed to know where he stood with this alien. A horrible thought stuck him, sending a jolt of alarm through him that seemed to settle in his stomach. Pain flared in his head as a result and his vision swam with light for a moment. In faint tones he suggested, "I think, perhaps, you have me confused with my Fusion."

Albedo looked at him with undisguised contempt, striding forward to seize Dexter by the front of his lab coat, shaking him with fury. Dexter recoiled, as much as at the unwelcome touch as at the sight of Albedo's wounds seen so close.

"Do you actually think I can't tell the difference between a Fusion and a lowly human?" snarled the young man. Dexter glanced down. Albedo's right hand bore the same burns as his face. He must have been in agony - if he could even still feel anything beneath those burns. "I've had far too much experience with both to ever mistake one for the other!"

He finished his tirade by striking Dexter hard across the face with his closed fist. His head was already aching, and this assault was too much for him. Dexter hit the ground, tasting blood. The whole world seemed to be spinning and panic seized his imagination. This was unreal. It could not be happening. It had to be a nightmare. Why couldn't he wake up? How had he come here, to this? Where was Ben? Where was he?

"Get up," ordered Albedo.

If only he could. When Dexter didn't move, a rough hand seized him by the hair, yanking his head up to make him look at Albedo. The silver-haired young man gazed at him, assessing him keenly and enjoying his helpless state. The Galvan reached out with a finger that was scarred and raw to dab the blood at the corner of Dexter's mouth. He tried to twist away, revolted to be touched by anything so dirty and oozing, but like Ben, Albedo was bigger and stronger than he and he was not permitted to escape. He could not imagine what Albedo was thinking as he looked at the blood sliding down his finger, but when he delicately smeared the drop of red on the lenses of his glasses, Dexter knew that Albedo was insane.

"You look just like him," said Albedo, his features hardening as he recalled his captivity. The expression was unbalanced and difficult for him to maintain. "You _are_ just like him. The same accent. The same arrogance. The only difference is you can suffer."

Desperately, Dexter shook his head - or tried to. "No," he breathed. "I'm nothing like him."

"Oh?" wondered Albedo with false surprise. "So you're not interested in the workings of the Omnitrix? You're not a genius? For a human," he allowed impatiently, his grip tightening to a point that made Dexter gasp in pain. "You have no interest in winning this war? Or in Tennyson?"

If he had asked for a summary of all his foremost obsessions, he could not have been given a neater or more concise list. At a loss for words, Dexter struggled to recover. He had hardly expected to have to defend himself against the arguments of a madman, and anything he said would be flung back in his teeth.

"Well?"

"I'm not a monster."

Albedo rolled his eyes in a very human gesture of disgust. "I'm sure your Fusion feels the same way. Do you actually think I care?"

That was a question he was in no way inclined to answer. Instead he countered with his own in a rather desperate attempt to comprehend what was happening.

"What do you want with me?"

"The Fusion wouldn't exist without you," mused Albedo. "Just as I wouldn't have this form but for Tennyson. For everything that happened, for everything that creature did to me, you two are to blame."

That was an interesting take on the situation. Dexter resisted the temptation to point out that if Albedo hadn't tried time and again to steal the Omnitrix from Ben, not only would he still have his original form, but he would not have crossed paths with what was undoubtedly the worst, most perverse and powerful of all the Fusions. Ben considered Albedo little more than a smart, spoiled brat (which some would argue was a fair description of Dexter, save that the Boy Genius had the sense not only to be somewhat diplomatic, but to be dating Ben and thus elevating such colorful descriptors to pet names) and for the most part treated him accordingly, but it seemed that Ben had underestimated his double's determination . . . not to mention his sanity. There was something else Ben had said about the Galvan – he refused to own his mistakes, but tried to pawn them off on whoever was most convenient regardless of the consequences.

It seemed Dexter was about to find out what that felt like. So far it had not been in any way pleasant, and he couldn't imagine that the situation would improve. His heart seemed to faint in his chest as he stared through blood-smeared glasses at this twisted and broken copy of the young man he loved so completely. Red eyes glared at him, their gleam so different and frightening from the gentle, playful look he so often got from Ben.

What had happened?

How had he come to this?

Where was Ben?


	4. Chapter 3: Angst

He felt rather like a museum piece or some prized possession on display as Albedo slowly circled around him. Was he pinpointing similarities to his Fusion counterpart? He had no notion of what to make of this situation, where to go from this point, and it took all his effort to keep his phobias at bay, given the damp, dark, and dirty setting. It was imperative that he maintain control of himself, especially since his every instinct was calling for blind panic.

And especially since Albedo did not seem interested in controlling himself.

As his kidnapper looked him over – an intimidating and frightening tactic if he let it get to him - Dexter took a moment to check his person, assessing his physical condition and any resources left to him. Having something to focus on besides crazed red eyes went far towards calming him, and he was careful to keep his breathing in check, especially when Albedo stepped behind him, out of his line of vision.

He had a headache, the sort caused by getting cracked on the back of the skull by something hard and heavy. Certainly he'd blown himself across the lab often enough to recognize blunt trauma at its best. Getting struck in the face and being held by his hair hadn't helped his cause, either. He was probably mildly concussed, too, a state with which he was well acquainted.

His right leg ached, especially below the knee, but that was nothing unusual. It had ached since Vilgax had destroyed the Speed Demon, and he expected that one way or another, the injury was going to bother him the rest of life. That he might be cut off from the treatment to stop his growth was of concern, though not an immediate problem. The doctors had been slowly easing him off the hormones to see if his system would stabilize on its own and if the leg bones Vilgax had shattered would grow normally. While no expert, Dexter estimated he had a few days before the lack made itself known. He could only hope he wouldn't pitch his usual hormone-driven hissy fit when his body and brain fell out of synch. When those treatments weren't timed perfectly, the least thing could frustrate him to the point of exploding.

For a moment he thought longingly of Ben, praying he was unharmed and free and knowing that he would be desperately anxious to get him back. He tried to recall if Ben could have noticed anything of what happened, if there was any hope of being followed and saved. The fact that he was still here, in the clutches of this sad and addled Galvan outcast, told him otherwise, and despair for Ben filled him as he tried to imagine what, if anything his boyfriend could do short of surrendering to hopelessness.

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

_"Strawberry?" Ben confirmed, despairing of Dexter's lack of daring and variety when it came to the culinary delights of a smoothy._

_"Strawberry," insisted Dexter._

_"Mint? Lemon? Banana? Chocolate chips in there?"_

_"Strawberry, Benjamin."_

_"Live a little, Dex!"_

_"I intend to live a lot tonight provided we ever make it back to DexLabs. If you don't get a move on, Mandy will figure out I'm gone and have me arrested the moment we get back."_

_"Pfft - screw Mandy!"_

_Dexter glared, a stern and fierce look that Ben loved as he softly hissed, "If you screw anything, Mr. Tennyson, it had better be me."_

_Ben grinned. "Promise. You coming in?"_

_An eyebrow was arched in his general direction. "Not in_ there _," he said with inarguable finality._

_The handful of kids at Mr. Smoothy was, to Dexter, as good as a crowd and the lack of sterilization inside the facility was quite enough to make him hyperventilate. There was no way Dexter was going to step one foot closer to the fast food joint and Ben knew it. He steered Dexter to one of the picnic tables set up on the lawn. It was close to a row of pine trees lining the edge of a playing field and visible from inside the restaurant._

_"Wait right here. I'll be back in five minutes. Maybe six. Don't move."_

_"I'll be waiting. Right here. For you, Ben," he answered, dropping his voice a little with each word, all the while staring into bright green eyes._

_Ben opened his mouth, raising a finger as he tried to formulate a reply._

_"Hurry back," finished Dexter._

_He swallowed, nodded, and waved his hand in a useless gesture. "Right back," he stammered. "Just . . . yeah."_

_Picking the cleanest spot he could find, he perched on the edge of the table and watched his boyfriend head off to get them smoothies. Ben glanced back, casting a quick wave Dexter's way and smiling in happy anticipation. There was a spring in his step as he loped up the steps to the entrance and held the door for a few girls as they exited. Dexter sighed and leaned on his hand, mesmerized by long legs and tight jeans. When Ben glanced his way again before hurrying inside, Dexter felt a confusion of emotions from shy to flustered to excited to a nameless, burning flutter in his stomach at the thought of giving in to the desire that had driven them both. Why now, tonight, he couldn't say. It was something more complex than being tired of waiting or denying himself something he desperately wanted._

_He wanted to give Ben everything Kevin Levin would have taken. He wanted to give him innocence and choice and pleasure, and he wanted Ben to see how much it meant to be the one to do these things for him. Perhaps it was just a question of wanting to cement the commitment they had made to one another the morning after that first, marvelous and daring kiss. Certainly he wanted to give Ben a sampling of what he'd find waiting for him back home, because it was inevitable that Commander Tennyson would be back in action very soon - and Dexter hoped to make that_ action _in every sense of the word. Ben was healing rapidly, both physically and emotionally. Dexter was glad to see the change in his spirits even though he knew they would be saying goodbye all too soon. Gloom was sure to follow hot on the heels of Ben's departure, and he rather hoped that sexual frustration would trump depression. Yearning for Ben was far more appealing than wallowing in misery, thank you. Not that either would be fun, but he'd much rather be fueling fantasies he knew his boyfriend would be very happy to fulfill versus hiding in his bedroom refusing to eat._

_Lost in thought, he watched and waited for Ben to reappear, grateful for the patient indulgence Ben so often granted him when his legion of phobias came into play. He was afraid of being outside, true, but crowds and germs were worse than unfiltered air and pollen and a few minutes wouldn't do him any harm. He was fortunate indeed to have found someone that understood having phobias - he and Ben shared an intense fear of clowns, and so Ben never doubted or questioned or got annoyed when Dexter grew frightened of strange or even commonplace things. Besides, Ben was also terrified of peacocks to a degree that eclipsed Dexter's fear of most animals. That Ben Tennyson of all people should fear peacocks was quite beyond Dexter's imaginings, but he had sworn to throw himself between Ben and any rampaging pheasants they ever encountered._

_He smiled at the notion of saving Ben from a bird, then steered his mind away from the fact that he was outdoors. Perhaps a shower was in order. That might be a very good lead-in. They could start by undressing one another very, very slowly . . ._

_"Dexter?"_

_He jumped and turned, startled to hear Ben's voice coming from the row of trees behind him. He looked back at the Mr. Smoothy, but could see no sign of his boyfriend inside the building. Why would Ben circle around? How had he managed it? It wasn't like him to horse around this way – it was risky enough for Dexter to be outside of DexLabs, as they both well knew. Now was not the time for jokes._

_"Dexter! Over here!"_

_A figure in the shadows, a familiar form and gesture and voice. Only the motivation seemed awry. And why_ Dexter _when Ben almost always called him_ Dex _, especially when they were alone?_

_"Ben?" he asked, frowning. "What are you doing over there?" He moved as he spoke, going to the edge of the tree line but unwilling to venture further. He didn't do forests any more than he did swamps, taxi cabs, or public bathrooms. Ben knew that perfectly well. "Come out of there."_

_"I don't think so," said the voice, suddenly cold, and the speaker lunged._

_With a gasp he tried to backpedal. He barely had time to register that this person only_ looked _like Ben. An iron grip clamped down on his arm and yanked him forward into a terrific blow to the head. Like sand through his fingers, consciousness slipped away and he fell into darkness and his attacker's arms._

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

He desperately wanted to clean the blood from his glasses. It was a relief when Albedo finally moved from behind him, back into his line of sight. Deliberately Dexter clasped his hands behind him, as much to keep himself from rubbing his aching head (sure to have lumps and bruises) as to get an idea if he had anything left in his coat pockets.

By the slight motion he could tell his cell phone was gone, which came as no surprise, but if this monster had appropriated his calculator then truly there was no god. His DexLabs and DexCorp ID's and access cards, usually clipped to his front pocket, were missing. Not that they would do Albedo any good, short of souvenirs.

The motion revealed something else – something sobering and telling. There had been an addition to his wardrobe. As the fingers of his right hand reached around his left wrist in a gesture that was the habit of a lifetime, his hand closed around a stiff cuff. He stilled, trying to conceal his surprise as his fingers felt the band. So far as he could tell it was lightweight, inflexible, a few millimeters thick, and completely featureless.

Albedo smirked, his burned features twisting into a mockery of a smile as he watched his victim.

"And what's this?" he taunted. "Go ahead and look, Dexter."

He didn't obey immediately, but took his time lifting his left arm. Deliberately he overlooked the dirt on his coat and glove, knowing that if he focused on the stains he'd grow hysterical. The cuff seemed metallic and had a dull sheen, fitting too tight to slide over his hand even if he removed his glove. There was no seam on it that he could see or anything to indicate its function. He tried to peek beneath it, but it was too snug.

"What is this?" he asked because it was expected.

"You'll find out."

He was rather afraid he would. It seemed he had found Albedo's means of exacting his revenge. How it worked and what it did was a mystery, but something told Dexter nothing good would come of such a device. It had been forcefully applied, and therefore it was here only to be used against him.

Lowering his arm, he stood in place and tried to determine the most sensible thing to do and say. His options were severely limited. Given Albedo's approach to him thus far, anything and everything he did or tried to do would be wrong.

"And now?" he asked softly.

"You can enjoy the same hospitality I did with your Fusion. Do you know what he did to me when he first captured me?" wondered Albedo, as if Dexter had some ownership and was somehow privy to the inner workings of his alien doppleganger. There was an underlying anger in Albedo's tone. Understandable, though his hatred of Dexter was illogical. "He locked me in a cell without food or water as he ran off for a final showdown with Tennyson."

He gave no reply. He knew the battle well. He had listened to it, analyzed it, almost lost Ben in it . . .

Albedo leaned in close to hiss in his ear, savoring the chance to frighten and the power he held.

"He didn't return for four days."


	5. Chapter 4: Darkfic

As much as he could manage it, Dexter kept his eyes closed.

It was a simple tactic, one he had used before to try and control his fear of the dark. It wasn't easy pretending that there was light which he chose not to look at, but the effort was distracting enough to work for the most part.

The darkness was complete. Absolute. He very cautiously checked, and there was not a hint of light, which was disorienting in and of itself. Added to that, there was no sound. He was entombed. Sealed off. He could just imagine Albedo subjecting himself to the confines of this cell just to be sure that Dexter would suffer the same conditions he had endured. Such effort struck Dexter as supremely silly, and it lowered Albedo in his estimate.

He contemplated making a ruckus just for the sake of having some noise – singing or shouting or reciting mathematical principles aloud - but it occurred to him that Albedo had probably wasted a great deal of time and energy yelling and whining at the absent Fusion Dexter. If he was going to be subject to all of Albedo's discomforts while a captive, he certainly wasn't going to emulate his responses. He kept his silence and kept his eyes closed and tried his very best to keep calm and hoped he was driving Albedo out of his mind in the process. The Galvan would be looking for a reaction out of him, probably hoping for something worse than the way he himself had acted. Dexter resolved to disappoint him.

Albedo had already made several mistakes in the psychological war he was trying to wage. The desire to gloat was a failing and something Professor Utonium had (mostly) exorcised from Dexter long ago. By telling Dexter his intent, Albedo allowed Dexter to plan countermeasures. Four days without food and water would be extremely uncomfortable, but not impossible. It would have been far worse to simply be chucked into this darkness not knowing if there was to be an end, as Albedo had been.

He sensed that despite his show of anger and claim of wanting vengeance, Albedo was not a genuinely evil person. He could not compare to Vilgax or the Fusion Dexter, for example, but then few beings could. Ben had categorized Albedo as a very smart nuisance, but lacking the experience and resources to be upgraded to a genuine, active threat.

Of course what worked for the Wielder of the Omnitrix, war hero and athlete, didn't necessarily work for the Boy Genius, science nerd. At the moment, Albedo was most definitely a threat. It remained to be seen if his heart was truly behind this thirst for vengeance. There was also the question of sanity and if Albedo could still lay a claim to it. He had his doubts. That his psyche was as damaged as his body was evident.

The cell he was locked in without food or water was as rough and uneven as the rest of the tunnels in this place. Dexter had no idea of what this place was or where it might be – a mine or excavation for sewers or unfinished construction, he could not say. He just knew it was damp and smelly and dirty and he was stuck here. For Dexter, simply being in the dark and dirt was torture enough, let alone the discomfort of no food or water and the promise of worse things to come.

In the summer between fourth and fifth grade, back when he was still living with his parents and only just getting to know the Utoniums, his old friend Douglas Mordecai had gone to San Francisco on vacation. Douglas came back with a terrible case of sun poisoning and a die-cast trolley car that Dexter still kept on a shelf in his bedroom and some fascinating stories about the prison on Alcatraz Island. One story in particular stood out in Dexter's memory – how prisoners in isolation, to keep their hands and minds occupied, would twist a button off their uniforms and throw it across their cell. In the darkness they would search for the button, feeling the floor and groping about until they located their prize, only to toss the button away again to keep the game going.

It was a simple and elegant means of confronting the oppressiveness of isolation. Dexter had been struck with admiration for such a small act of defiance. It seemed to him rather remarkable that he should now be able to relate to criminals in a high-security prison, because he was mentally debating which button he was willing to sacrifice from his lab coat if he happened to get so bored as to need such a distraction.

Given how much he had to think about, it would be a long while before he reached that point. According to Albedo he had four days of darkness and deprivation to look forward to, followed by who knew what sort of torment. True to form, Dexter put the time to work for him - or at least he tried to. His initial success was negligible.

Logic told him to be productive and analyze what had happened and why, but initially his heart and mind were weighed down with regret and he indulged in more than a little bit of wallowing in misery. They never should have left DexLabs, at least not alone. He had broken protocol by leaving without a weapon, too, but Ben had been with him and even if he had been armed, he knew perfectly well he would not have been able to shoot Albedo. He'd been too shocked at his appearance and . . . well, he looked too much like Ben.

If only they had turned around when Ben wanted. If only he hadn't insisted Ben get his smoothy. If only he'd gone inside the eatery. They could have spent the night together making love . . .

Sitting with his back to the wall and his knees bent close, he rested his head on his folded arms. The motion brought him into contact with the metal cuff affixed to his arm, and he glowered a moment before finding a comfortable position in which to waste time moping. Anger at Albedo flared up in him, a juvenile but perfectly human response as his inner child stamped his feet and railed against the heavens.

_I had a date!_

He should be naked right now. Naked in bed or in the shower or on the kitchen table or living room carpet – anywhere but here. He should be tired sweaty and sore with Ben's weight on him and in him as they stumbled and laughed and learned the nuances of making love. The day should have ended with smug satisfaction on both their parts. Instead he was sitting on his butt in some dirty, subterranean hideout with an aching head and a crazed alien trapped in his boyfriend's DNA for a jailor. Most people would be quaking in terror right now, which was probably Albedo's intent, but at the moment he was just too pissed off to be afraid. If Albedo had entered the cell at that moment, Dexter's verbal assault probably would have made the Galvan's ears bleed. What god he had offended he could not say, but some snarky cosmic power seemed intent on foiling Dexter's every plan to get laid. He'd finally gotten over himself, Ben had pretty much gotten over Kevin, and now this. Dexter knew sex was complex, but did it really have to be so _difficult_?

Of course, there was the possibility that Albedo intended to do to him everything the Fusion Dexter had done. Ben had theorized that rape had been among the abuses that Albedo had endured. It was more than a little disturbing to think that his Fusion copy was capable of such atrocities or to imagine the logistics, but then Fusions somehow twisted and perverted the emotions the person they resembled was feeling at the time of their creation. To this day DexLabs Security and the Professor were unsure _how_ a sample of Dexter's DNA had been obtained, but Dexter suspected DeeDee's empty-headed affections had been exploited by Planet Fusion. There was no doubt, though, that the sample had been gathered _after_ he had fallen madly in love with Ben. Nothing else could explain the Fusion's obsession with Tennyson and his short-lived interest in Albedo.

And in its own sick way, that would explain how and why his doppleganger would be capable of rape. Fusions had a limited capacity for emotion, and usually what they did feel was negative. Unbridled lust was quite possibly the closest thing a Fusion could get to experiencing love since the only emotions they seemed to express well were intense anger and hatred.

Was Albedo capable of such an act? He didn't want to think so, but clearly Albedo could and would get violent, at least with Ben and Dexter. Ben had told him Albedo had made several attempts to steal the Omnitrix. He wasn't above extortion and kidnapping to get what he wanted, and he'd already said he wanted Dexter to pay for what had been done to him.

What to do? What could he do? If Albedo was bent on recreating his own suffering – as if that would serve some purpose – then perhaps the best thing Dexter could do would be to change the situation.

Then there was this cuff on his arm. He traced the metal band, trying to bend or loosen it or find a seam. There was nothing. He wondered at it. Was it something his Fusion double had made and used on Albedo, or was this the Galvan's brainchild? Outside of the Omnitrix he had no notion of Galvan aesthetics or tastes, and so he could not say if the featureless device was in keeping with alien design. He did know that the color and curved edges of it echoed his own designs, so it stood to reason his mimic would copy him in this.

It had to be a control of sorts. He thought long and hard about it, and all he could conclude was that he really didn't want to find out what it did. There was no doubt in his mind he'd regret such knowledge.

Time, whatever that meant in this pit, dragged by. Dexter kept his silence and his fears in check and his eyes tightly closed. The lack of water was quickly noticeable and physically discomforting, but as time advanced, greater concerns than his own comfort took precedence in his thoughts. He was worried for the Professor, knowing his father would be frantic. His sisters would be looking for something to tear apart to find him. And Ben. Had he been captured as well? Or was he free? Dexter had seen what guilt could do his boyfriend, and he knew perfectly well that Ben would feel fully responsible for his kidnapping. Ben would look back to his confrontation with Albedo in Bellwood and blame himself for not stopping the Galvan then even though he was too hurt to try. He would look further back, to the Battle of Citiesville, and wonder if he could have done something then to save Albedo even though he hadn't been able to save himself. He would blame himself for the misdeeds of others and for not being able to stop everything bad that happened to the people he loved.

Dexter drew a deep breath and held it, slowly exhaling as he forced himself to remain calm. Fear was the enemy as much as Albedo or Vilgax or Fuse. He would not give in and Ben, he knew, would not lose.

His family would not rest until they found him. Of that he had no doubt.

All he needed to do was survive.


	6. Chapter 5: Backstory

The silence was maddening.

Coming from Albedo, that conclusion was rather significant. He had met and matched madness long ago, leaving him something of an expert on the subject.

And now, it seemed, he had met his match.

Though not immediately apparent to the casual observer (if there could be one down here in these tunnels with him - it seemed unlikely though his mind refused to rule out the possibility entirely), the cell he'd prepared was occupied. He knew that. He'd bodily shoved Dexter in there and locked the heavy door himself, and so he refused to open it and check. But the complete lack of sound since that moment two days ago was unnerving to say the least, and doubt, something Albedo had rarely  
experienced, was creeping into his thoughts. It was so unexpectedly quiet (not that he would have admitted to screaming for hours on end to be released when held captive by the Fusion Dexter) that he began to wonder if Dexter was alive.

He was alive. Of course he was. Not even someone so scrawny and undersized could perish from want in two days or even four. He wasn't meant to die anyway. He was here to _suffer,_ and so he would. Suffer for not being his Fusion just as Albedo had suffered for not being Ben Tennyson. He would know every sort of pain and fear the Fusion had inflicted on his helpless captive. He would face the same brutal punishment, feel the burn of acid and shame alike (and the shame was infinitely worse). Let him be starved and beaten and face the gross indignity of . . .

Pacing in the barely-lit corridor, his sneakers caked with mud, Albedo paused in his mental tirade, highly aware of his own hesitation to continue the thought with any sort of emotional detachment. Would he be able to go as far as the Fusion had? Was he, Albedo of the Galvan, capable of an act so base and lowly as to force himself upon another being? The Fusion had used him like a toy, a _thing_ \- something without emotions or nerve endings or sometimes even without a spine. How many times had that thing raped him? It had been rape, even though for the Fusion the act was simply motion, with no real satisfaction outside of physically dominating a copy of Ben Tennyson.

He paused in his pausing, then shook his head, bringing himself back to this version of reality, slanted though it may be. He was getting ahead of the immediate issue. He would deal with that later. Right now, he wanted to establish if his prisoner was or was not present and accounted for. There was no way out of the cell save the door, and that was secured. Albedo had been staring at it for hours. Days. Dexter was in there and he was alive.

Or so logic told him.

However, logic and his imagination - both tainted by human emotions and hormones, to be sure, not to mention poisoned by the noxious odors Tennyson's body created of its own accord, especially after consuming chili fries - were not exactly seeing eye-to-eye at the moment.

Perhaps he might be going about this the wrong way. Such admittance didn't come easily to him, even if no one but he was privy to the confession. He didn't know much about Dexter, but he hadn't thought that was really necessary, given the circumstances. Smart as Dexter may claim to be, he, Albedo of the Galvan, had to be smarter. It was simply impossible for anyone the same race as Ben Tennyson to be anywhere near as intelligent as the smartest race in five galaxies, arguably seven. Nothing less was acceptable. Hadn't he managed to kidnap one of the most heavily guarded and monitored people alive? Snatch him from Tennyson's teeth, no less! He could keep Dexter, too, and no one would ever be the wiser.

He thrust his hands into his jacket pockets in a very Tennyson-like gesture, and his hand brushed the small electronic device he carried. A smile touched his once-handsome features as he considered the small unit that gave him absolute command of the situation. That cuff, copied and adapted from the one Albedo had worn for a month or more in the Fusion's lair in Citiesville, would do more than control Dexter. It hid him from the electronic monitoring he was so dependent upon to keep him safe. It  
only made sense, after all. The original design had come right from Dexter's own mind, twisted and evil copy though it might be.

When he'd been held by the Fusion Dexter, Albedo had shouted and made demands and worn himself out, which went far toward worsening his own condition. In light of this boy's stoicism, the transformed Galvan had a vague sense of embarrassment for his conduct, even though no one but he knew about it. He was being outdone by a human child who was literally doing absolutely nothing, and he felt the sting to his ego with keen intensity. How dare Dexter face the same situation with poise, with dignity even. How _dare_ he outdo Albedo of the Galvan!

His ego had always been easily pricked, but never so much as when he'd rather unwillingly taken up residence on this miserable, backwater planet populated by imbeciles who had no appreciation for his genius. It was only marginally better than being a prisoner of the Plumbers. At least here he had easy access to chili fries, his only weakness.

He also had access to Ben Tennyson, who was in possession of Albedo's only desire: the Omnitrix. Azmuth's device was the key to regaining his true form and returning to Galvan Prime. It was as pathetic as it was demeaning that he should need a lowly human for anything. But how to wrest it away from Tennyson? In the past he had tried a number of means to gain the Omnitrix. So far trickery and brute force and threats had all failed him. Subtlety and persuasion had fallen on deaf (and idiotic) ears.

And now . . . Albedo had Dexter.

This wasn't exactly the situation he had planned out in his mind when he'd stumbled across this hiding place. It was actually supposed to be Tennyson occupying the small, dark cell, but Dexter sitting alone at the restaurant had been too tempting to pass by, and considering what Albedo owed him - or at least owed his Fusion doppleganger - Dexter would serve very well. There had always been the (very likely) possibility that he would not be able to remove the Omnitrix from Tennyson's arm once he captured his double, and unless unconscious or immobilized, there was always the possibility of him transforming into another form and escaping. Dexter, whose only claim to being a threat was his supposed intellect, was a laughably soft target.

Unlike the Fusion he had fathered . . .

He snatched his thoughts away from the memory of the Fusion and resisted the urge to touch the wounds the creature had inflicted. His dreams (yet another aggravating human weakness) were haunted enough. He had worked long and hard (and though he would not admit it, unsuccessfully) to rid his waking moments of the creature's frightening presence.

If Tennyson had a weakness (and Albedo felt his double had too many to list) that was easily exploited, however, it was undoubtedly his emotional attachments to people. That Tennyson and Dexter were close was evident, but how close? Close enough for Tennyson to go to any end to get him back? A foolish question. Tennyson was hopelessly noble and willing to risk his hide for complete strangers, even his enemies. He'd do anything to play the hero and get his scrawny little friend back. Of that Albedo had no doubt.

Provided Dexter was still in the cell. And alive.

Why was he so concerned over the survival of an annoying human? Was it because Dexter's Fusion had been so savagely ruthless that the fear he'd felt in its presence carried over to this boy? Though Fusion doubles tended to have very limited, base emotions, Dexter's copy had proven far more complex than the average doppleganger. In Albedo's reckoning, that said more about Dexter than his copy. Especially since Dexter himself didn't fill Albedo with fear. In their brief contact, Albedo had received a very different sense, one he could not yet define. Yet.

Or was it something else that sparked this obsession? Dexter was small and slim, almost delicate, and his hair was even darker red than that of the self-absorbed-but-nearly-as-annoying-as-her-cousin Gwen Tennyson. His eyebrows, Albedo had noted, were quite elegant and his eyes were very blue. Almost the same color of earth's sky.

The Galvan paused in his pacing, pulling a very human expression of disgust. Why had he noted _that?_ It was a fact and nothing more. Dexter's eyes were blue. What shade of blue made no difference. Why was his mind attaching poetic nonsense to such an observation?

He had several options open to him. He could wait in annoying uncertainty for another two days. He could barge into the cell and pretend it had been four days since Dexter's incarceration. The lack of light was disorienting and Dexter might not be able to gauge the amount of time passed. Or he could activate the cuff Dexter wore. Stoic though he may be, the jolt of pain Albedo could cause would be sure to tear a scream from the boy's lips, thus proving quickness and presence with a single effort. Somehow that seemed like . . . cheating. Not that he wasn't perfectly capable of being underhanded of course, but he didn't want to play his hand so early in this affair . . .

And still that maddening silence reigned. Albedo folded his arms across his chest with an impatient huff, staring at the door. Why was this consuming him so completely?

A minute passed. Nothing. Anger began to replace the pointless concern he felt.

Losing all patience with himself and Dexter, the Galvan gave in to temptation. A few quick strides across the corridor, and he threw back the heavy lock on the door, yanking it open in one hard motion. His voice erupted in fury when he saw his prisoner sitting on the floor opposite the doorway.

_"Dexter!"_


	7. Chapter 6: Crime and Punishment

_Dexter!"_

For one glorious, heart-stopping moment he thought it was Ben, his Ben, here to rescue him. Dexter's head snapped up, his eyes opening wide at the shout. After two days of complete darkness it took a few moments for his vision to adjust, but by the faint light it was almost immediately evident that this was not his boyfriend.

Albedo was furious, his chest heaving and his fists clenched tightly. Dexter could only guess why, but given that the Galvan was not in his right mind by any stretch, he thought it wise to try to divert this show of temper as best he could. He had been figuring out vectors in his head, tracking the long equations on his fingers, and before Albedo had a chance to shout again, he swallowed what little moisture there was in his mouth and quietly asked,

"What is the square root of 638.1?"

It worked. Albedo was astonished, his rage derailed if only for a second or two. It sufficed to calm him a little. He gaped speechlessly and then slowly said, "25.2606."

"Thank you."

He lost track of his calculations, lowering his head so as not to betray the crushing disappointment he felt. No Ben. Not yet. Pursing his lips, Dexter fought to steel his emotions. He would have to be patient - more patient than he wanted to be - and very cautious in dealing with Albedo. He had never had direct interaction with someone that was violently unstable and he wasn't certain the hostage training he'd received would be enough for him to handle Albedo. That the promised time in isolation had not passed yet was evident - Dexter was not nearly as dehydrated as he should be after four days without food or water. He was uncomfortable, but not nearly as much as he would be when the allotted time was past. So what was Albedo doing here now?

"What are you doing?" demanded his captor.

Rallying himself, Dexter looked up again. He wasn't wearing his glasses since they were unnecessary in the dark, and he squinted to see a bit better. "I'm working on vectors."

"Why?"

It was a silly question and evidently Albedo didn't know what else to say. Keeping his tone neutral, Dexter answered in a voice that was raspy and soft,

"I've been developing a new hover board design, something lighter and narrower than the original one I invented, and now I'm working on making it more aerodynamic."

"Why?" Albedo demanded again, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Dexter paused, not certain of what to say but fairly sure his captor expected a reply. "It's my job. It's what I do."

If there was a right answer - and upon reflection, Dexter realized there really wasn't - that was not it. A furious scream escaped Albedo and he struck Dexter with his fist. Pain and light exploded in Dexter's head as the unexpected assault knocked him flat.

"No!" shouted Albedo. "That's not why I brought you here!"

Oh, this was absurd. Dexter carefully stood up, pressing hard on the spot where the blow had landed. His head already ached terribly and he was feeling the effects of dehydration - apparently he was expected to be hysterical as well. Did Albedo actually think every waking moment would be spent in a state of panic? Was that what he had done, and now the same was expected of Dexter?

"Is it I'm not suffering enough for you?" he asked a little more snidely than was perhaps wise.

Once again, he'd said exactly the wrong thing. It was frightening and horrifying to see Ben's face wear such a malicious sneer as Albedo now focused on him. In a swift motion he thrust his hand into the pocket of his red jacket and pulled out a device that Dexter could barely see.

"No," growled Albedo, glaring hard at him, allowing Dexter to know he had hit on the precise issue of contention. "No, you're not suffering enough. Not nearly enough. Fortunately I have the means to correct that little oversight right here."

He keyed a control on the device he held. Suddenly burning white pain flowed through Dexter's entire body. A strangled scream escaped his throat as agony consumed him. Every nerve was on fire. He had never felt such pain, never imagined it was possible to feel so much pain all at once. It was as if the very fiber of his being was being brutally dismantled molecule by molecule. He thought it immobilized him, but he was wrong - he never felt the impact as he dropped to the floor of the cell.

The agony seemed to last forever, but just as suddenly as it had hit, it was gone. Dexter found himself flat on the ground, in the dirt, still writhing and his chest heaving as he gasped for air. He was sobbing and drooling and his nose was running with moisture he could ill afford to lose right now, but he could not possibly control his own responses.

And now he knew exactly what the device on his arm was for: torture.

Cool red eyes watched with sadistic amusement as Dexter struggled to master himself. Albedo crouched down beside him, examining him with interest as if Dexter was the subject of some new experiment. In Ben's voice - but mercifully not his inflection - the Galvan gloated,

"I believe this is what you humans would term 'a taste of your own medicine.'"

Faintly Dexter whispered, "I haven't done anything to hurt you, Albedo."

"On the contrary. All the fascination your Fusion holds for Tennyson and all its twisted malice comes straight from _you_." He waved the control at him. "This device came straight out of your mind and imagination. You're no innocent. You're the one most responsible for that thing's existence."

"Fuse is responsible for unleashing the Fusions," he argued, his words slurring.

"Brought here only because you had developed weapons capable of combating Planet Fusion."

"Were we supposed to sit back and let them win?"

He gasped in fresh pain and surprise when a hand gripped his hair and Albedo pulled him up for a better look. Despite their close proximity, Dexter's poor vision and lingering discomfort kept him from noticing the expression Albedo wore. It was just as well - he had enough fodder to fuel his nightmares already, and the hungry interest in those red eyes would have filled him with panic.

"Wasn't that enjoyable?" mused Albedo. "I believe that might have hurt you even more than it hurt me the first time," he observed, masking his emotion with an over-the-top display of contempt. "Then again, thanks to Tennyson's DNA, I _am_ a quarter Anodite. Perhaps I should learn how to manipulate mana. If that strumpet cousin of his can, I should be able to do so with ease."

Shoved away, Dexter lacked the strength to keep himself from falling back heavily. Albedo stood over him, gloating. The hard-packed floor was cool and despite the smell and the dirt, it was soothing to his aching and abused form. Carefully he rolled to his side, the memory of the pain still bright and echoing in every cell of his body. His limbs were leaden and he could barely move. He didn't want to move. He never wanted to move again . . .

Ben would have told him to stay put. His father and bodyguard would have ordered him to do the same. But he was Dexter. He was, according to the Professor, the very definition of stubbornness. The same indomitable spirit that drove him to create while ignoring the existence of the impossible, that made him pit himself and everything he had accomplished against the might of Lord Fuse, now made him slowly gain his feet again and face his captor. He was Dexter, Boy Genius, Founder of DexLabs, and the son of Patrick Utonium. There was only one person in the whole universe he would lay down for.

And that person sure as hell wasn't Albedo.

It was a mistake to challenge insanity. Albedo gave him a hard look and a sneer. "You should have stayed on the ground, Dexter. It is your place, after all, and I like you more there."

And he activated the cuff again.


	8. Chapter 7: Flashback

There was something to be said for unconsciousness: it allowed Dexter to avoid experiencing the better part of another day without food or water. Waking up was problematic and would have been trying even if he hadn't been dehydrated. As it was, it was simply easier to stay in the hazy stupor that settled in upon him and let his body do what it could to recover from this ordeal. That afforded him the added bonus of not having to carry on another round of debates with Albedo, who came into the cell to check on him no less than five times. Dexter had discovered that, just as with the young man who was his twin, Albedo was a talker.

Not that Ben talking had ever been an issue for Dexter. Once he figured out that most of what Ben had to say was relevant to a serious discussion (or highly entertaining in less serious discussion), Dexter had paid very careful attention not just to the ways Ben communicated, but how and when and why. He'd told himself it was simply a pet project, but really the then-thirteen-years-old Boy Genius needed a valid excuse to stare at his best friend. It wasn't long after that Dexter fell in love.

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

_"Hmm . . . The Professor. Let's see."_

_Taking a deep breath, Ben Tennyson closed his eyes and pretended to concentrate on the brightly wrapped gift he held in his hands. Trying hard not to laugh, he let out a low hum, rocking slightly._

_"Mmm . . . something nerdy."_

_Bubbles laughed out loud at the vague yet accurate prediction. Sitting next to him on the floor, she swapped the Professor's gift out for another one she grabbed at random._

_"Blossom?" asked Ben, not even trying. He handed it right back. "Book."_

_"What about this one?"_

_"Buttercup." He closed his eyes, holding the present before him._

_"Something with spikes and black leather."_

_"And this one?"_

_"It's for you," he said, glancing at the tag. Holding the box, he checked the weight and sniffed at it skeptically. "I smell . . . something blue and lacy."_

_More giggles. "Here. Try this one."_

_From the upper story of the suite, Dexter leaned on the railing overlooking the great room below. Their home here in Downtown was decorated for Christmas, and Ben, who was spending the holiday with them, was helping Bubbles arrange the mountain of presents beneath the tree. Unnoticed by the two teens, he watched in silent fascination and appreciation as his best friend and his sister interacted and enjoyed each others company._

_"It's to Dexter," said Ben, and Dexter felt his breaths quicken as Ben said his name. He frowned, wondering at the reaction. Maybe it was because he usually called him Dex, not Dexter, but why was this instance different?_

_"How can you tell?" wondered Bubbles, impressed._

_"Because those ornaments on the paper look like atoms."_

_She looked, breaking into a broad grin as she realized he was right on both accounts. "What is it?"_

_Closing his eyes again, he hummed, shaking the box slightly. Abruptly he stopped, sitting up straight. "Something super nerdy that only he would want."_

_She snatched the gift away, feigning offense for her brother. "Not everything he gets is nerdy!"_

_"Name one thing," challenged Ben, deadly serious._

_She fell silent, trying to think of an example that would bolster her claim. Highly entertained - because he knew there was no harm meant in Ben's teasing - Dexter waited with as much anticipation as Ben for the answer. Bubbles gnawed on her lower lip, squirming a bit as she realized she'd backed herself into a corner._

_He found himself smiling not so much along with Ben as much as at his amusement. Dexter had long been in awe of Ben's expressiveness and how free he was with his emotions. Here at home, relaxed and looking forward to Christmas tomorrow, he wasn't a commander in this war or a leader or hero or anything other than a teenage boy. Here he was safe, and he didn't have to protect anyone from Fusions or aliens or the media. The braggart took a back seat to the gentle and caring young man this family loved so well. Ben appreciated the opportunity to kick back as much as Dexter appreciated having his best friend visiting for a few days. Free_ __of criticism and scrutiny, Ben Tennyson's charms came shining through.__

_"Try this one," Bubbles said abruptly, abandoning her attempt to prove her brother wasn't hopelessly nerdy by shoving another wrapped present at Ben. He let the subject slide and carried on with their game, pressing the package to his nose and sniffing deeply. He shook it slightly, and then to Bubbles' shock, he gave the paper a quick lick. Like a connoisseur of fine wines, he contemplated the clues before a sly smile spread across his face._

_"I'm sensing . . . Sumo Slammers."_

_Dexter's heart seemed to catch in his breast at that smile, and he suddenly felt as if he was seeing, really seeing Benjamin Kirby Tennyson for the first time. He was awestruck, blown away, and it seemed to Dexter he had forgotten how to breathe. Ben was . . . remarkably handsome. Why hadn't he noticed this before? And he moved with the grace of an athlete, a fluid strength born of assurance in his own skills. He was the most beautiful thing Dexter had ever seen or imagined, and in that moment he knew he was in love._

_In love. With Ben. His best friend._

_It was as wonderful as it was frightening, as thrilling as it was terrible, and he could not look away as Ben and Bubbles horsed around, playfully teasing one another. Dexter was entranced, drinking in every moment as if it was the last one he'd ever have. He had never felt this way about anyone before and he certainly never expected that it would be Ben who would claim his heart. In an instant he thought he would die of longing, so intense was the desire to tell him . . ._

_I love you._

_Oh, god, what was he thinking?_

_"Oh, yeah!" crowed Ben, holding the present high in triumph. "My man Dexter has come through with the collectable action figures!"_

_He leaned on his hand, the latex of his glove cool against his cheek as he swiftly contemplated the situation from every angle. Much as he wanted to shout out his newly discovered affection, he knew could not tell him. Ever. They were friends, best friends. He had no notion if Ben would even spare a romantic thought for boys, but Dexter did not want to make him uncomfortable or self-conscious or any way anxious in his company or make Ben see him any way differently. Unless some miracle occurred and Ben suddenly looked at Dexter in a whole new light, he would have to be content with watching and dreaming and wishing._

_"Hey, Dex!" called Ben, finally spotting him on the second story of the suite. Dexter started, surprised as his reverie was disrupted. "C'mon down and help us guess what we're all getting!"_

_He stared for a moment longer before gladly accepting the invitation to get closer. Anything to be closer . . ._

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

When he opened his eyes, he was still in pain.

It was different from feeling the effect of the cuff on his arm. That had been burning agony. What he felt now was a deep, lingering ache. His lower back, his stomach, his throat, his head, and especially his right leg all hurt, and nausea gripped him. Most of it was the result of dehydration, he knew, but he still had Vilgax to thank for the intense discomfort in his leg. He should have had another round of treatment yesterday - or perhaps it had been the day before - to slow his growth. He honestly hadn't expected to be here so long as to make that an issue. He wasn't sure how his body would respond, but a growth spurt could inflict a lot of pain and damage on him.

Aside from being in pain, however, he could see. There was a faint light overhead. Dexter blinked, staring at the glowing blur in surprise. Slowly he sat up, pulling out his glasses. For the first time he got a decent look at his cell. It was completely unremarkable - cement walls, earth floor, bare bulb overhead, a metal door. Dismal.

Beside him, though, were two bottles of water and an apple. Moving carefully, not wanting to spill a drop, he opened one of the bottles and took a sip. Water. He could sense his body's greed and relief and he resisted the urge to guzzle the entire bottle. That would probably just make him sick, and he really didn't want to vomit right now. So he went very slowly, waiting for a while between each mouthful.

He stared at the apple. It was red and he preferred them green, but he was not about to complain or go about to try eating it until the nausea faded. He simply preferred his apples and his boyfriend to be color-coded, and the color of choice was green.

Food and water. Albedo had said he'd spent four days without it, and that Dexter would do the same. Four days and more had passed since he had been snatched away from Ben and his father and his home. What were they doing right now? Were they searching? Had Ben been injured by Albedo? Did they have any idea of where to look? Had any clues been left? His father would be sick with anxiety, Ben even more so, and the thought of their worry was devastating. The girls would be frantic, and Buttercup would rip the city apart if the others didn't stop her. Odds were good the Mr. Smoothie had been leveled by his laser-eyed sisters. Oh, well, he'd just buy it. Ben could have a shrine to his favorite eatery.

Four days. A frightening lot could happen in that amount of time. What if the Fusions attacked? Surely Ben wouldn't leave Downtown until he was found. Would he be found? Was there any way for them to find him? He felt the shift in his mind and spirit as depression settled in upon him once again, triggered by his emotional and physical distress. It was inevitable - he was too anxious and frightened and hurting _not_ to get depressed. He let his breath out slowly, trying not to blame himself for what for him was a perfectly normal and predictable response to a situation so extreme. He knew a number of ways to fight it, and if nothing else he recognized the condition and could (mostly) function through depression. He'd been doing it for years, after all. It wasn't easy, and being in pain and having his hormones out of synch wouldn't help in the least, but he certainly wouldn't let it stop him. He didn't dare let it.

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

_"Ben, am I doing the right thing?"_

_"Is there a wrong thing right now?"_

_"It could be me."_

_They were sitting on the wall of the patio overlooking the front entrance to DexLabs, their feet dangling over a two-story drop. Dexter knew that any moment now his security forces would be swooping down to scold him for sitting here, but with his best friend at his side he wasn't too worried._

_When Ben spoke, he chose his words with great care. "We're at war. The only wrong thing right now would be to do nothing."_

_"So many people expect me to have all the answers."_

_"That's because you stepped up and took charge."_

_"I question if that was the correct thing to do."_

_"I don't."_

_Dexter looked at him, surprised by his confidence. When Ben smiled, Dexter thought his heart must be melting. He let himself indulge in a moment of fantasy that Ben loved him as deeply and in the same ways Dexter loved him. It was fleeting, but the very idea gave him hope. That's what Ben did._

_"People believe in you," Ben continued. "You should follow their example."_

_"What if someone dies because the things I make aren't good enough, or I don't have all the answers, or I'm not cut out to lead in any way?"_

_"It's war. People are going to die. Maybe even people we know. Remember that everyone here volunteered for this because they believe in this cause, starting with you. I've seen battle. I've seen people die. Heck, I'm sure I'm responsible for more than a few of those deaths. It's never easy, but going down or getting up, it's better to fight."_

_He folded his hands onto his lap, staring at the purple gloves and not at the drop just beyond, and pondered these words of experience and wisdom being shared with him._

_"I've made all these weapons and all these machines. What if they don't work?"_

_Ben's faith was unshaken by Dexter's doubt. "Then we try something else."_

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

He was still eating the apple and working on the second bottle of water when the door opened and Albedo entered the cell. Struggling to his feet, Dexter faced him squarely. Though he needed more water, the food and drink had gone far toward relieving some of his aches and allowed him to fortify himself against what he planned to do. Galling though it was to do, he forced himself to say,

"Thank you for the water."

The white-haired young man glared at the unexpected show of manners. Dexter suspected Albedo was looking for something to complain about to his captive audience – he had probably expected a verbal attack for torturing him earlier, but Dexter resolved not to bring up that incident. It was time to change tactics, Dexter reasoned. If he could make Albedo see him in a different light than his Fusion double, it was possible he could change Albedo's plans for him.

"I'll bring you more. Don't drink it all at once. These human bodies are touchy. You'll make yourself sick."

It sounded like the voice of experience speaking. "I'll be careful," he promised.

With another glare Albedo turned, and Dexter quickly asked, "You're leaving?"

"Why would I stay?"

He hastened to find a safe subject. "I . . . I understand you're from another planet. Galvan, was it?"

"Galvan Prime," corrected the alien with a sneer.

"Galvan Prime," he said with a nod, acknowledging his mistake. He'd known that, he just wanted Albedo to correct him. "It must be very different from here. Have you visited any other worlds?"

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

There was a pause as Albedo's loneliness did battle with his plans for revenge. By all accounts, in accordance with what the Fusion Dexter had done to him, he should have slammed Dexter against the wall and choked him before he stripped him naked in a brutal version of seduction. Let Dexter feel cold hands on his flesh, too powerful to refuse, clawing and pinching and invasive. Let him be forced to submit . . .

He stared back at Dexter, riveted by those blue eyes. The Fusion's eyes were red. Dexter's curiosity about Albedo was genuine, whereas the Fusion had only been interested in sex with Ben10 . . .

He could not remember the last time someone had asked him anything about himself. That this was a ploy, a desperate play at leniency, was evident. It was almost disconcerting, but it was also irresistible.

"Many," he answered before he could stop himself.

"Were they inhabited?" Dexter asked eagerly.

"Of course," he snapped.

"By what races? I've only heard of a handful of different species. What were the plant names?"

He should just ignore this creature and walk away. Why did he owe Dexter any answers?

But his eyes were so blue and he wanted to hear what Albedo had to say . . . Even if this was just a ploy, Dexter's whole attention was focused on him.

"Pallas was the first one I ever visited," he heard himself say. Despite himself he slowly turned. "Most of the surface of the planet is comprised of noxious swamps, and so the Pallasians built floating cities to lift them out of the slime . . ."


	9. Chapter 8: Mystery

_"Where are you?"_

The Professor sounded about as furious as Ben had ever heard him. For a person so mild, his anger was extremely impressive. Having anticipated this explosion, though, Ben smiled fondly as he activated his communicator and said,

"Mr. Smoothie."

 _"Where is he?"_ Utonium demanded savagely.

"Here with me," he replied, keeping his tone flat. Now was not the time to be glib. Dexter was definitely going to be grounded and Ben resolved to take whatever wrath or punishment Utonium decided to dish out even though the Professor had no real authority over him. It would be worth it, really, considering the plans they had for tonight.

_"Is he with you right now? Put him on."_

"He's waiting outside. Hold on a sec."

He scooped up the smoothies and hurried out the door, dodging a few fans and ECF troops. He didn't want anyone to recognize the Professor's voice and figure out exactly who it was they were discussing.

 _"You left him alone?"_ the Professor all but howled over the comm unit. Ben winced as a few people overheard, but he was moving too fast for anyone to get a clue. Loping down the stairs two at a time, he headed for the picnic tables outside the eatery.

"He was afraid to come inside. He's sitting right . . . here."

He came to a stop, staring. The picnic table where Dexter had been waiting – a table fully visible from inside the shop – was empty.

 _"Ben? Ben, are you there? Is Dexter there?"_ Utonium was close to panic, and Ben felt the same emotion welling up inside him. He wasn't hiding. Hiding from sight when they weren't supposed to be here in the first place was just plain mean, and though Dexter had a long list of annoying aspects, meanness was not one of them. Dexter would never pull a prank of this nature, at least not removed from the safety of DexLabs. There was just too much at risk with him leaving the safety of his corporate headquarters for anything like horsing around. They both knew that. Besides, it was understood that Ben was fully responsible for Dexter's safety whenever they were together. Something must have happened, but what? Ben had looked away for just a minute or two . . . maybe three.

"He was," Tennyson said faintly, looking about, anxious to catch a glimpse of red hair and white coat. Suddenly it seemed as if he was running out of air and his strength drained away, leaving him numb and in shock. "He was here a minute ago."

 _"Computress has lost all trace of him,"_ shouted the Professor, panicking for real _. "He's not responding to calls on his comm unit. Ben, where is he?"_

Raw fear seized him. Blue liquid spattered his jeans as he dropped the smoothies, his hands suddenly too weak to hold on. He whipped around, looking this way and that, scanning the thin crowd and the streets beyond in sheer desperation.

"I don't know," he whispered as the world crashed down around him.

Dexter was gone.

_**()()()()()()()()()()** _

Ben Tennyson desperately wished the Professor would blame him.

Then again, Utonium couldn't possibly blame Ben any more than he already blamed himself.

They had searched everywhere, questioned everyone. A few people remembered seeing the young man in black and white sitting on the picnic table, but none had recognized him and none had seen him leave. They were far more interested in Ben's presence than that of some unknown kid in glasses. Footage from the security camera showed Dexter waiting, patiently seated atop the table, and at some point he noticed something or was called away because he moved from the table and out of the camera's range. The other cameras had not been working, so they had no idea of where he had gone, and Utonium had been hard-pressed not to throttle the owner of Mr. Smoothie for the gross lapse. They had no way of knowing what piqued Dexter's curiosity or who had been present or why they had seized him.

Something had caught the young genius' interest. Of that there was no doubt, given his body language. Since he had repeatedly promised Ben not to stir, it had to be something of major importance. He had seemed positively confused, looking between the restaurant and the thing off screen, and it appeared that he had spoken several words. Computress was working on enhancing the blurry image to try and see if they could figure out what Dexter had said before abandoning his perch.

Sheer, crushing despair threatened to overwhelm Ben to the point where he could barely function. Four days had passed. Four days of no sleep or food and constant dread and fear. Countless, nightmarish scenarios raced through his mind, fueled by imagination and lack of sleep. The moment he was left to his own devices images of Dexter enduring torture and abuse and starvation flashed through his mind. The worst times were when he dared question if Dexter was even still alive. Life without Dexter? It wouldn't be life. It would be existing, little more.

Life ground slowly on, and the hideous truth was kept well hidden. The Professor locked down on what scant information they had. Only a handful of people actually knew that Dexter was missing. Most DexLabs employees had never seen or met him, and the same was true of the people fighting the Fusion invasion, and they were none the wiser. Morton didn't even tell the whole of his security team. It seemed to Ben the strangest thing imaginable to see life go on undisturbed in the corporate headquarters. His world had been irrevocably changed – how could the rest of the world go on as if nothing had happened? KND and ECF operatives came and went as before, the walking wounded and trainees and kids on leave and visitors moved about freely. Production continued in DexCorp, testing for the next generation of hover boards was carried out and orders were filled. Every morning at nine Kilroy Green left his office in Research and Development and headed to the meeting room that served as a classroom and was not seen again until after lunch, just as he did every day, though instead of tutoring Dexter he was scouring the internet for any information on his only student.

Mandy knew. Dexter's trusted Plumber contact, General Shaan, knew. Mr. Green, Sgt. Morton, the Powerpuff Girls, Computress knew. Utonium considered informing Sector V's command team, but rejected the idea. It wasn't that the Professor didn't trust Nigel and his crew – he trusted them entirely – he just had no faith in them keeping quiet even amongst themselves and their subordinates were notorious eavesdroppers. Ben was very surprised to learn that Samurai Jack had also been told, but it made sense – if anyone could be relied upon to keep silent and alert, it was the Japanese prince. They were all doing everything they could, but it wasn't enough.

Ben no longer felt a part of events – he existed in a strange, sleepless world where anxiety and heartache were the norm and he functioned on gnawing emptiness. There was no comfort in the safety of Downtown anymore because clearly even here, so far removed from the invasion, was not safe. Every day he searched, not sure of even where to look, but desperate to keep moving. The Powerpuff Girls went with him most of the time, as fierce and determined to find their brother as Ben. Mandy very wisely said nothing – she knew Ben and Dexter were best friends at least, and she knew nothing she could say would persuade Tennyson to leave until Dexter was found. If she pushed, she knew her best general and her three strongest fighters would resign their positions in Earth's Combined Forces, and so as quietly as she could she helped in the desperate search. There was a small glimmer of hope she could offer, however. She reported that Dexter was alive – Grim had no record of Dexter's soul being collected and no immediate plans to do so, though as the Grim Reaper he gave no guarantees.

The Professor let Ben go on until he collapsed – it was kinder than trying to get him to stop and rest. Ben had sat down in the Utoniums' kitchen with Blossom to check a map of DownTown and the surrounding area, and the next thing he knew he was waking up in the guest room, hungry enough to eat a horse and with a headache that could power Bellwood for a full day. He jerked awake, unsure of the day or time but keenly aware that he should be out searching. Dragging himself upright, he dressed, somehow still exhausted and clumsy. He was in rotten shape, he knew, and probably pretty useless, but he deserved every moment of misery and he would not, could not stop until Dexter was safe. When his boyfriend was home, they could collapse together in a heap and not move for a month. That sounded nice, he thought as he shrugged on his jacket. Now he just had to make it a reality . . .

Tired and worn and looking older than his years, Professor Utonium was working on his computer in the great room of the suite. Ben made it as far as the table where the scientist was sitting and sat on the floor, leaning on the leg of Dexter's baby grand piano while waiting to be acknowledged.

"How do you feel?" asked Utonium, still typing.

"Like I'm made of lead," Ben replied truthfully. His voice was hoarse.

"Mental and physical exhaustion will do that." He looked up, fixing Ben with a caring but stern look. It was blisteringly effective – Ben felt about an inch tall, if that. "You won't do Dexter any good by driving yourself to collapse. You're going to eat and sleep regularly from now on."

He didn't argue. In some odd way, it seemed to Ben this was a form of penance for his sin of losing this man's son. Utonium's word was law, and hard as it would be to obey, Ben would do it.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Twenty-two hours."

"Sorry," he muttered, hanging his head. He started pushing himself up. "I'll go -"

"Get something to eat and drink," finished Utonium in his best don't-argue-with-me-junior voice. "There's some bourbon chicken and cold cuts in the fridge."

He nodded. "Thanks. Has there been anything?" he asked softly.

"I'm expecting Computress to contact me at any moment with the analysis of the security footage from Mr. Smoothie. Why don't you go eat?"

Food helped immensely – his headache faded almost immediately. He was working his way through the chicken when a musical chime sounded. Ben recognized the sound as an instant later Computress projected a comm screen in the air before Utonium. Still chewing, he joined the Professor, his heart racing.

"Analysis complete, Professor," she reported, adding two more screens for Dexter's chief of security and head of R&D. Knowing they were anxious, the super computer got straight to business. "The distance and poor quality of the camera made analysis and comparison difficult. There is a 26.8% probably my analysis is incorrect."

She ran the all-too familiar security footage, adding sub titles to the grainy picture as Dexter turned and spoke.

_Ben? What are you doing over there? Come out_

That was all. Ben felt the same numbing shock sweep over him that he'd felt five days ago.

"Oh, my god," he heard himself say in a voice that was strangely faint. He stepped back a foot, horrified as he stared at the screen. "Oh, god."

"Ben?" pressed Mr. Green.

"Albedo," he breathed. He looked up at them, certain of his conclusion. "Albedo has him."


	10. Chapter 9: Family

"Albedo?" breathed Utonium, torn between wild hope and crushing despair. "You're certain?"

Swallowing at the lump in his throat, Ben nodded, trying hard to keep calm. His heart was racing and he forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly as he said, "Yes."

"How do you know?" demanded Chip Morton, already dispatching officers to expand their search.

"Because Dexter promised me he'd wait right there until I got back, and the only thing that could have gotten him to move is _me_."

He was absolutely right and they all knew it. The Professor turned to Ben, his gray eyes blazing with the first shred of hope he'd had since this started.

"I want to hear everything you know about Albedo. Every last detail, Ben, I don't care how small or inconsequential. Everything."

"Record his statement," ordered Morton.

"You got it," said Ben, as eager to talk as they were to listen.

He spoke for what felt like hours, answering as much as he could and wracking his memory for every possible detail. Green joined them in the suite and the grilling intensified. Ben cursed his own ignorance when he didn't have all the answers they wanted, but he was so glad to finally, finally be able to contribute to the search effort. Knowledge did nothing to alleviate his all-consuming guilt, but it did give him the illusion of progress.

In this case, at least, they could and did increase the number of people searching. Word went out to every KND operative, every ECF soldier and their allies to find Albedo. Morton took great care to stress that they only wanted Albedo found and tracked. He was not to be approached or contacted on pain of a month of detention with Mr. Green, which was threat enough to make even battle-hardened soldiers shudder with fear. Based on Ben's statements, the security chief feared Albedo would refuse to talk if taken in for questioning, and for Dexter's safety they did not dare alert him to the fact that he was suspect.

True to their occasionally obnoxious teenage form, many members of Earth's Combined Forces cottoned on to a possible source of attention and action and suddenly white hair and red soccer jackets were all the rage. Some even went so far as to invest in red contacts. The fad was short-lived after Mandy issued clearance for DexLabs Security to hold anyone conforming to Albedo's appearance. Immediately the holding cells beneath DexLabs headquarters were filled to bursting with wannabe Albedos, with more lined up in the hall outside the detention center. The child soldiers initially found the situation amusing and were delighted to have riled the powers that be until Mandy insisted each and every one of them be processed before release. She devised multiple, overly-complex forms that needed to filed in triplicate and reviewed before they would be released, and inevitably those incarcerated filled the forms out incorrectly. With Security stretched so thin searching for Dexter (and arresting aspiring Galvans), the only ones Mandy bothered to find to do the paperwork were Johnny, Ed, Cow, Billy, and Eustace, with Plank in overall charge. It didn't help that Cow could neither spell nor type, Ed had discovered the use of ballpoint pens on paper and was occupied with scribbling, Johnny was hopelessly introverted, Billy ate every piece of paper he was handed, Eustace's chair was too comfortable and he fell asleep before he finished a single form, and Plank called for coffee breaks approximately every twenty minutes. Smart-alecky amusement turned to annoyance to anger to mind-numbing boredom to bitter regret as the kids came around to the fact that maybe dressing up as the person Mandy and DexLabs Security were trying to find wasn't the smartest of ideas. Not in the least concerned about a pack of idiots who thought it was fun to compound his problem, Morton left the soldiers where they were with the blessing of Professor Utonium.

Ben and the Powerpuff Girls scoured the city anew before turning to the outlying territory. There were forests and a quarry and hills and even a few shallow canyons in the land around DownTown, all of which were remote enough to satisfy Albedo's tendency to remove himself from civilization, but not be so removed as to limit his access to technology and chili fries.

The Professor was very careful to keep their spirits and energy from flagging. Though the children knew not to expect instant results, after a few exhaustive, disappointing days tempers began to flare. Surprisingly, it was Blossom and not Buttercup who lost her cool first. Angry at being told to rest after they picked at their dinner plates, the leader of the Powerpuff Girls erupted in frustration.

"We can't rest! I don't want to rest! Dexter could be hurt or in pain or even dead right now!" she practically screamed at her father. Her fist pounded on the table, cracking the wood. "How can you expect us to stop? Do you think Albedo has any intention of stopping? Do you think he'll just bring Dexter back to us all safe and sound?"

The Professor said nothing, waiting patiently for her to have her say. Her sisters and Ben were equally silent as Blossom voiced the fears they all shared. She pointed at Ben, fury blazing in her expression as she unloaded on him.

"Why did you let him go? You should have stopped him when you had the chance! This is all your fau-"

 _"Blossom!"_ snapped Utonium sharply, standing. The censure in his voice was enough to stop her cold. She was not used to her father raising his voice to her any more than she was used to having no control of a situation. Tears stood in her pink eyes as Ben lowered his gaze, unable to look at her. In a rush of emotion and guilt she realized she hadn't said anything that he hadn't realized from the start. Her accusatory outburst was no match for his remorse, and he was just as tired and frightened as the rest of them. She looked to her sisters, at Bubbles' sympathy and Buttercup's harsh disapproval at this lack of control. But it was the gentle understanding in her father's gray eyes that was her undoing.

Blossom gave a shuddering little gasp and fled the room, racing up the stairs to the bedroom she shared with her sisters. As the door slammed Ben sighed, leaning heavily on his hand and unable to look at any of the Utoniums.

"Wow," Buttercup finally said, direct and tactless as always. She glanced at her remaining sister. "I thought you'd crack first, Bubbles."

Rather than take Buttercup to task, Bubbles quietly confessed, "Me, too."

"Girls," admonished the Professor, though there was no heart to the reprimand and it had no effect on them. "Please, all of you finish your dinners. I'll be back."

He made it a point to clap Ben on the shoulder as he passed and then hurried up the stairs to where their bedrooms and the library were located. Outside of his daughters' room he paused, listening. He could hear sobbing and knew that Blossom would be almost as upset at herself as at the situation. He tapped on the door.

"Blossom? Can I come in?"

She didn't answer, but she did open the door. The moment he entered the room Patrick Utonium was enfolded in a crushing embrace. The Professor just held her – it was what she wanted and needed most – and let her cry out all her frustration. Finally all that was left was a weary teenage girl with too many responsibilities and worries and a grieving father helpless to change anything.

"I just . . . want him back," Blossom whispered, never loosening or even slacking her grip.

He smoothed her long, red hair. "So do I, honey."

"Even with all these powers, I feel so helpless."

"We all do."

"I'm sorry I yelled."

He smiled faintly, though she couldn't see with her head resting against his chest. "It's all right."

"I broke the table."

He shrugged. "It's easier to replace than the roof."

Despite the situation, Blossom gave a small laugh, remembering how long it had taken for the Powerpuff Girls to curb their enthusiasm actually to go _outside_ before taking off to fight crime. How many times had they put holes in the roof that way? The Professor had stopped counting after ten and had kept a roofing contractor on speed dial for years. She sniffed, raising her head to look at him.

"I should apologize to Ben."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate that."

Neither of them moved, both unwilling to let go and face the reality of Dexter having been kidnapped and the sheer, overwhelming pain that awaited them. Leaning over a bit, he pressed a kiss atop her hair, prompting her to lift him off the ground to squeeze him a little tighter.

"You're the best dad ever, Professor."

He made no reply, but he desperately wished it was true. If he had been a better father, all his children would be home.


	11. Chapter 10: Suspense

"If you don't eat it all, I'm going to stop bringing you anything."

Albedo was serious. Dexter eyed the red apple and did everything he could to conceal his loathing. "I promise I'll eat it all."

"Then do so. Now."

He didn't want to touch the pathetic-looking sandwich, didn't want to put it near his lips, but he had no choice.

"It wasn't a suggestion, Dexter."

Slowly, with great effort, he ate the sandwich. White bread. Processed cheese. Peanut butter. And was that ketchup on it? Revolting. He didn't want to look and find out the ingredients and if he could have, he would have suspended all senses as he ate. He disliked peanut butter and since Ben was allergic to peanuts, the stuff wasn't even allowed on the DexLabs campus. Bite by bite, under Albedo's watchful glare, he forced the food down. It sat like lead in his stomach.

"What were you doing with Tennyson the day I took you?"

Dexter struggled to swallow. That was quite the loaded question, all things considered, but true to his decision not to lie (or tell the whole truth), he could and did answer with all innocence, "We were going to get smoothies."

The transformed Galvan had no sense of boundaries or privacy or personal space, barging in at all hours and demanding answers to a wide range of questions, not all of which made sense. Most of the questions centered on Ben and the Omnitrix, but Dexter noticed that he was gradually being pulled into the mix. How had they met? Why were they friends? Had he examined the Omnitrix? What was the present roster of aliens available to Tennyson? Why was he, Dexter, so involved with the Plumbers? How did he tolerate someone as intellectually vapid as Tennyson? What did they do when they were together? Why?

"What is a smoothie?"

"It's a frozen drink, often made with fruit. It's Ben's favorite."

"I am not familiar with this beverage," stated Albedo.

"They're quite good, if a little sweet."

"If Tennyson cares for them, I shall avoid them at all costs. Bad enough I crave chili fries. How long have you known Tennyson?"

And so on and so forth until Albedo would abruptly stomp out of the cell. More than once he left before Dexter finished what he was saying, and the redhead couldn't help but wonder if Albedo's wounds were giving him trouble. He was certainly mentally unstable. Several times he'd struck Dexter, and one other visit ended with the cuff being activated when Albedo didn't like the answers he received. When he'd returned, Albedo had acted as if nothing had happened, and so Dexter did as well.

It was quite the dangerous game Dexter was playing, a balancing act between madness and safety, manipulation and deference. So far he had managed to postpone the promised violent seduction, opting instead for just plain violence, but Albedo's control and emotional stability were tenuous at best and he could be sure of nothing. The Galvan was moody, his attitudes running the gamut between desperately lonely and looking for understanding to blind fury. Sometimes he plainly resented Dexter, other times he spent hours on end talking and even laughing on occasion. Tension was building up inside him, that much was plain, and Dexter genuinely feared the consequences when that emotion crested.

Isolation and the inability to mark the passing of time were, he concluded, highly effective in producing a state of disorientation. Dexter had no idea of how long he had been here in this dismal cell, but nine or ten days did not seem like an unreasonable amount of time, though he suspected it was much longer. Days without sanitation. Without a bath. Without brushing his teeth. Without _flossing_. If Albedo wanted to torture him, he'd found exactly the right combination of factors to give him nightmares and hate being in his own body. When he got out of here – and he would get out because there was no way he was spending the rest of his life smelling like a locker room – Dexter promised himself a week-long bath. At least he had light, and feeble though it might be, it was not turned off (which, he knew, just contributed to his disorientation, but it was better than the state of panic that darkness produced).

Every day, at no set interval, a ration of food and water was brought. Usually it was a sandwich and the inevitable red apple (which he already despised), once it had been a stone-cold hamburger. Anxiety and depression were robbing Dexter of his appetite, and he was finding it harder and harder to eat what little food he was given. To compound the issue, he was constantly cold and the lack of a steady supply of caffeinated drinks gave him an almost permanent headache. His right leg was extraordinarily painful, to the point where he couldn't even pace obsessively. He did his best to keep up on his physical therapy, but many of the moves and stretches he was used to doing required another person. Ben had learned the moves and had often helped him, citing it as an excellent excuse to get 'all touchy-feely' with Dexter. The memory of Ben's gentle, caring hands – not to mention the normal, very welcome progression from physical therapy to just getting physical – was almost more than he could bear.

Probably the worst tangible aspect of this imprisonment was the silence that prevailed. Dexter had no issue with being alone and could spend days on end without human contact, but he was used to noise and needed it to concentrate. In his laboratory there was the constant hum of equipment and computers and music if he was in the mood and the whirr of DexBots moving about and occasionally DeeDee wrecking things. In the family's suite were all the commotions of an active family – talk and laughter and water running and weather and the microwave heating up snacks. With Ben . . . there was a constant stream of chatter or the steady, deep sound of breathing on the bed beside him that meant safety and contentment. Here, unless Albedo was talking, there was no noise. It even made imagining Ben talking to him difficult – and imagined conversations with his boyfriend had always been a favorite hobby for the Boy Genius. The quiet was oppressive and just seemed to amplify his anxious thoughts, and he longed for his familiar routine and family.

Now that he had light, he had taken a detailed look at his cell. It was unremarkable – cement walls and a hard-packed earth floor. He had examined every centimeter of the metal door, but the handle and hinges were on the outside, affording him no chance to dismantle it. Though there was a tantalizing sliver of a gap between the door and the frame, Dexter lacked anything that could reach the locking mechanism. For now, at least, he was well and truly trapped.

He did have one tool available, however. Several years ago for his birthday his sisters had banded together and had a belt buckle custom made for him of the stylized 'd' he'd adapted for DexLabs' corporate logo. It was black and silver chrome and quite heavy, and though he thought it a bit silly, he'd worn it every day since they'd given it to him. At first he'd worn it just to make them happy, but now it was as much a part of his wardrobe as his gloves or lab coat, something to be missed if absent. Albedo had overlooked it when he'd rifled Dexter's pockets, and now it was his most prized possession.

Carefully, at odd intervals, he honed one side of the buckle against the metal door, narrowing it down to a razor's edge. He usually worked on it a little while after Albedo left him, figuring the Galvan would not soon return. It was more challenging than he'd expected, especially since he didn't dare make much noise or scratch more than one spot on the door, but if nothing else, shaping the buckle into a tool kept him focused and relatively busy.

Time and again he had to remind himself it was a tool, not a weapon. Physically he didn't stand a chance against Albedo and he made no attempt to convince himself otherwise – that would be sheer folly and a waste of time. No, he was bent on eliminating the very immediate threat of the cuff on his arm. A hair-thin seam circled the wide end of the restraint, and he was determined to pry it open.

He had never experienced or imagined pain such as this device caused. Even being stepped on by Vilgax could not compare. It gave a very unbalanced individual far, far too much power over him, something Dexter would not tolerate, and there was no hope of escape so long as this thing was operable. After learning that his Fusion double had created it, Dexter had given the contraption a lot of thought. Since he had made it (as it were), he should be able to figure out its construction and function. Of course there was the chance that Albedo had modified it, but he doubted that. Albedo would have needed some delicate tools indeed to alter the cuff and given his mental state, Dexter wasn't sure he was capable of anything so complex. Perhaps it was sheer arrogance on his part ( _You? Arrogant?_ asked Ben's voice with feigned shock) but if Albedo couldn't put together a halfway decent sandwich, Dexter seriously questioned his ability to effect successful changes to such a device, Galvan or no Galvan.

With peanut butter and ketchup sandwiches and red apples in mind, he stood directly under the light bulb and applied the sharpened edge of the buckle to the cuff. He found himself holding his breath as he tried to be absolutely still. The curve of the cuff and the long edge of the buckle did not match, but Dexter was nothing if not patient with such challenges. He tried various angles and different points on the sharp edge of his one and only tool, but the seam was truly hairline and all he managed to do was make a few scratches in the silvery metal. He was reluctant to stop, but eventually he was forced to admit the blade was too wide. A disappointed sigh escaped him. He wasn't sure he'd be able to hone the edge of the buckle any finer, but he would certainly try. He had no other options.

There was a sound in the corridor. Dexter paused, alarmed when he heard the door opening again. This was very atypical. It hadn't been an hour since he'd been left alone. Hastily he slipped the buckle into the pocket of his lab coat and backed away in limping strides as Albedo shoved the heavy door wide.

 _"What_ are you doing?" demanded the white-haired teen.

He backed up a few more steps, wanting as much space between them as possible. If Albedo saw the faint scratches on the cuff, he'd know instantly what Dexter was attempting. "I was trying to stretch my leg."

"You're a poor liar."

"I don't do it often enough to get good at it," he countered. "And I'm not lying now."

Red eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Dexter kept his face carefully composed. He knew he wasn't dealing with the lonely Albedo that wanted to talk, but the angry version that suddenly remembered he had been horribly abused and wanted to share his suffering. So far Dexter had managed to hold him at arm's length, but he knew it was only a matter of time. What had set him off? Had he heard the scraping? Was there a camera set up in here he hadn't spotted?

"What's wrong with you? You weren't walking that way when I saw you with Tennyson."

He spoke Ben's name as if it was poisonous. Dexter hastily explained, trying to distract Albedo away from the noise he'd been making and hopefully gaining some sympathy in the process.

"Ben and I had a run-in with Vilgax last year while I was testing an experimental vehicle. The bones in my leg were crushed. I've had multiple surgeries on it and have been undergoing treatment to stop my growth ever since. I'm overdue for the next round of therapy by several days. Without it, I'll grow – a very painful and perhaps crippling process in my case."

"Why would Vilgax attack _you?"_ sneered Albedo, letting Dexter know how unworthy of such attention he really was. That was fine. Such notoriety was hardly desirable. Was this some perverse form of jealousy?

"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"That seems to be a habit with you," quipped the alien. He started to smirk and suddenly twinged as if in discomfort. With a small hiss he turned away from Dexter and raised a trembling hand to his head, careful of the tender, unhealed wounds.

"Albedo?" He limped forward a step. It was dangerous, it was probably stupid ( _Yes, Dex, very_ , warned the voice in his head) but he had to try. Perhaps his own admittance of an injury could make Albedo face his own. Quietly he pleaded, "Albedo, please. You're not well. My father can help you. He'll gladly help you. He'll give you anything you wish if you let me go."

"Tennyson said something similar," sneered Albedo.

"Yes," agreed Dexter, desperately wishing Ben had flattened this unstable alien when the chance had presented itself. "We both need medical attention. Please. Let me go. Let me help you."

Albedo snorted in derision. "You sound like _him."_

He knew exactly who was meant by that comment. Back in Bellwood, his boyfriend had made a similar offer. "Ben speaks from the heart."

"He's a fool."

Dexter said nothing despite the desire to defend his boyfriend.

"And how do you speak?"

Lifting his chin, Dexter kept his tone even. "With my head."

Red eyes gazed at him for so long that he started feeling uneasy. The look was so much like the times when Dexter caught Ben just watching him for the sheer pleasure of it that it was positively disturbing. The possessiveness was not tempered by affection but by a desire to dominate.

"Do you?" wondered Albedo, moving forward a few paces. Dexter stood his ground. He had nowhere to go. In the wan light Albedo's fair hair and ravaged face made him look very old. "So the same must be true of your Fusion double."

"I can't speak for him."

"Why not? He's you, is he not?"

"No. He looks like me, but he's not me any more than you're Ben. I would never have hurt you the way he did. I would never _want_ to do anything like that."

Rounding on him with a mocking look on his face, Albedo seized Dexter by the upper arms in a crushing hold. "Then why did he capture me?"

Dexter shook his head, afraid of Albedo's intent. "I don't understand what you mean."

"Don't you? Your Fusion did to me what he wanted to do to Tennyson – all those filthy, carnal instincts and acts could only have come from _you_. Only looking like Tennyson wasn't enough for him, and when he got tired of pretending I was something he wanted, I was reduced to a test specimen in his lab as he perfected that cuff. And all the while, all he could talk about was Tennyson and everything he planned to do to him now that he was through with me. Where else could he have learned to want Tennyson but through you? What is Tennyson to you?"

"My Fusion, I think, wants to understand love," Dexter replied softly, dodging the real issue and gritting his teeth as the hands holding his arms grew tighter. Fresh fear was filling him, and he tried not to tremble. "Love as we humans view it."

"We humans? _We_ humans?" hissed Albedo, shaking him sharply. "Don't make that mistake again, Dexter. I am _not_ human."

He was, he was, he was as human as Ben. Only his personality and memories were alien. All the rest of him – his instincts and reactions and emotional responses and appearance – was Ben.

"Neither is my Fusion. Complex emotions are beyond his capacity."

"But forcing himself upon me isn't."

"I said nothing of the sort. His conduct and treatment of you repulses me."

"And what of me?" sneered the Galvan. "Do I repulse you as well?"

Dexter looked at him squarely, refusing to answer that question directly. "You are a victim of his cruelty."

A sneer answered. "What do you know of cruelty?"

"Vilgax almost killed me just for being Ben's friend."

"His . . . friend," echoed Albedo, unconvinced. "I find _that_ statement hardest to believe of all."

"I don't understand."

Albedo let go of Dexter's arms but did not move away or let the redhead retreat. Instead the alien ran his hand up Dexter's front, from his stomach to his chest all the way to his throat and up under his chin before renewing his iron grip. A little gasp escaped Dexter as he was forced to face Albedo. Red eyes narrowed as he leaned close to Dexter's ear to whisper softly and dangerously, "That would be convenient if it was true."


	12. Chapter 11: Non-Con

"I will ask you one last time," hissed Albedo savagely, his once-handsome face twisted into a sneer. "What is Tennyson to you?"

The fingers gripping his throat tightened and he could feel pressure and pain building. Fear just short of panic seized Dexter at these words and the tone of voice and the predatory gleam in Albedo's red eyes. He struggled to speak, instinctively trying to twist away or pull Albedo's hand off of him.

"I told you. Ben is my friend," he gasped. "Why does he need to be more?"

"Because your Fusion desires him and therefore you desire him."

Dexter fought to keep from looking away. Albedo would know for certain he was lying if he couldn't meet his eye. "I have what I want from Ben."

"I doubt that. Is he your lover?"

"No," hissed Dexter, still straining to escape.

"Do you want him to be?"

"Why do you care?" he snapped, fury erupting alongside dread. "What does it matter to you? What do you want of me?"

"I don't care," said Albedo, and Dexter knew he was lying. "But this body . . . this human body – _Tennyson's_ body . . . I look at you and I _want_. I see your eyes, your face and –" He broke off, hands clenched tightly on Dexter's arm and throat as he tried to master himself. "Why you, Dexter? Your Fusion repulsed me. How is it you elicit a physical desire from this form?"

No. No, no, no. Not this. Dexter pulled back as best he could, shaking his head. Albedo snarled, anger flashing in his eyes for just a split second, and then -

Dexter's mouth was crushed in a crude, vicious kiss that was at once clumsy and violent. That Albedo was an alien was evident because he knew nothing about expressing himself this way – the only saving grace was that he took his hand off of Dexter's throat and gripped his arm again as he mashed their mouths together. Everything about the caress was wrong, from its intent to its execution, to a point that it was more like being slapped with a pair of lips than being kissed. There was no passion outside of Albedo's misplaced lust, nothing that could draw from Dexter any emotion outside of revulsion at the touch and the thought of those raw, oozing burns coming into contact with his clothes and skin. Eyes wide, too terrified to move or resist and caught completely off guard, Dexter stiffened, keeping his mouth firmly closed against this onslaught.

Abruptly Albedo seemed to realize that Dexter wasn't responding, or at least not responding in the way he'd hoped and expected. He drew back, seeing the shock in Dexter's eyes, and he frowned.

His expression sent a jolt of fear through Dexter. Good lord, had all these visits and strange conversations been the Galvan equivalent of seduction? Did Albedo actually expect that Dexter would welcome such vulgar advances on his person? Apparently he did, because his frown was slowly replaced by a cold, hard sneer that chilled Dexter to the core of his being. He knew instantly that Albedo, rightly guessing the lack of success lay with himself, would refuse to take any responsibility for the situation and that he, Dexter, would be the one paying the price for the Galvan's failure to fascinate. It occurred to him he could probably turn the situation around, if not command it, if he jumped Albedo and responded with enthusiasm. He could easily claim his shock was that Albedo would want a lowly human as his partner, but that would only invite some truly unspeakable responses and Dexter would sooner kiss his Fusion than this twisted copy of his boyfriend. He would not encourage this behavior because it would inevitably lead to something truly grotesque, but the consequences of rejecting Albedo would be dire. There was no good, reasonable solution to this situation, no lesser evil to choose.

"I could just take what I want," claimed the Galvan.

"No," Dexter said softly, knowing full well he was playing with fire but unwilling to leave the words unsaid. Some things were worth the cost. "What you want must be given."

Albedo's eyes narrowed as he swiftly analyzed this statement, grasping the nuances of Dexter's words and the rejection that came with understanding. "Then perhaps I'll just have to pretend."

The second kiss was as distasteful as the first. Albedo shifted his grip, digging his fingers painfully into the sides of Dexter's face to force his mouth open. Dexter strained, trying to writhe his way free, but there was no contest as he was reduced to a toy, a thing, something Albedo would use until he was done.

Would he ever rid his mouth of the taste of Albedo? It was amazing that Albedo and Ben were identical, because beneath the surface they were nothing alike. Ben. Poor Ben. Dexter understood more fully than he ever wanted to what Ben had experienced with Kevin last month. He was experiencing it now. Albedo's assault on his mouth – it was anything but a kiss – was rough and so lacking in technique as to be almost clinical from Dexter's point of view. Clearly his teacher knew nothing about kissing, but then Fusions knew nothing of love. There was force involved – there was no other way Albedo's tongue could have come to be in Dexter's mouth – but force was a factor in everything about this situation. This was just one more horrific aspect of being held captive by a madman.

Despite his mind's order to simply endure the invasion, he could not stomach a touch so rough and depraved. Albedo was being gross and violent just for the sake of being gross and violent, forcing himself on Dexter just because he could. As much as he was able, Dexter pushed back, fighting to escape Albedo's hold and his mouth.

He reeled slightly when he was released. Albedo jeered at him, seemingly in anticipation of a reaction. What was it he wanted? He knew now that his actions were hateful – so was he trying to get himself hated, thus justifying (in his broken mind) his conduct? Wanting nothing more than to spit, Dexter stared at him, his jaw aching. He steeled himself not to respond, knowing that nothing would satisfy the ersatz Galvan right now except to inflict pain and violence upon his person.

The back fist caught Dexter across his face, dropping him. He hit the ground hard, losing his glasses as he fell. Casting about, he tried to find them in the dim lighting, never regretting his poor vision so much as at this moment. A bark of pain escaped him when Albedo stepped on his hand, pinning him. It was clear the alien was enjoying his distress because he gave a little laugh as Dexter kept trying to locate the glasses.

"Is this what you're looking for?" taunted Albedo, nudging the glasses out of range with his other foot. Dexter reached as best he could, struggling to pull free and retrieve them. "Oh, I don't think so."

There was a sound of plastic snapping as Albedo stepped on them and ground the heavy glasses beneath his heel. Horrified, suddenly crippled, Dexter gasped.

"There. Now you're blind."

Albedo spoke as if he'd done something praiseworthy, and he could hear the smirk in his voice. Dexter stopped struggling, overwhelmed. Slowly he closed his eyes. His weak, useless eyes. Without his glasses he would never get this cuff off of his arm. This was worse than being left in the dark. Blindness was a death sentence. He lay on the ground, not caring about the crushing pain in his hand or the terrific blow to his face or whatever Albedo had planned for him next. He found his voice, though it was little more than a whisper.

"You are no better than my Fusion."

"If you think that, then perhaps I should act the part better. I'm sure you'll regret it. He wasn't nearly as gentle as I've been."

Dexter shook his head, sad and disgusted but certain that Albedo's words were quite true. "You called me a monster and now . . . that's what you want to be."

A moment of silence followed as Albedo considered this statement. They both knew perfectly well that no matter how much he might wish otherwise, there was no way Dexter would ever return a fraction of the emotion that had been awakened in the Galvan. He had gone too far, pushed too hard, and there was no going back.

"Time to embrace my role then, Dexter."

The pressure on his hand was released as Albedo stepped away. Dexter didn't even try to rise, knowing perfectly well what was to follow:

_Agony._

_**()()()()()()()()()()** _

How long Albedo left the cuff activated, Dexter had no idea, but it sufficed to leave him in a strange, detached stupor when consciousness crept back upon him. His mind was hazy, as if every thought was filtered through mist and he was reluctant to leave this state and deal with his captor. He awoke to the sound of the door opening, but he made no move as Albedo moved about the cell. Another vile sandwich? Let it rot. An apple? Dexter had an image of beaning the Ben lookalike right between the eyes with it. Not that he could have managed it without glasses, but it was childishly satisfying to imagine.

He ached. His whole body. His right leg was pulsing with each beat of his heart and he knew bruises were forming on his face. Even breathing was a chore. He focused on that simple task, trying not to smell the dirt or his unwashed body and clothes but centering on pulling air into his body, letting it drain away slowly, over and over again.

Despite the fact that it seemed impossible, his situation had worsened. It wasn't even the loss of his glasses so much as the loss of Albedo's interest. Now the Galvan would keep him alive only to torment, if he kept him alive at all.

His thoughts went to the cuff, an uncomfortable lump against his chest since he lay atop his arm. He would not be able to remove it by dismantling it as planned. That plan had been a long shot, but it had still been a shot and it was disappointing to have that chance taken from him. His only options were to break it (and probably his arm with it – a small price to pay, really) or somehow get the remote control away from Albedo.

There had to be a control to remove it. If the cuff had been made by his Fusion double, who knew everything Dexter knew up to the point when it had been created, then it was reasonable to presume the copy would go about building safeguards into its inventions regardless of their intended use. Even before he had established DexLabs, Dexter had gotten into the habit of tracking his inventions and always leaving himself an escape route. Hence, he could locate via satellite every single Null-Void gun presently leased to the war effort, and if necessary, destroy them individually by remote detonation.

Dexter frowned, a brief and rather disturbing sequence of the cuff exploding beneath him going through his head. Only slightly less disturbing was the idea of it blowing his hand off. Revolted by his own morbid imaginings, he shifted to his side and opened his eyes, staring at the exposed light bulb and wondering how the hell Albedo had managed to get himself out of a similar situation.

Or had he?

Albedo had said he'd escaped the Fusion Dexter but . . . since he had founded DexLabs and then DexCorp, Dexter knew perfectly well he was obsessive and neurotic when it came to his inventions. He knew the exact location in his lab of every prototype and experiment and half-baked invention he'd worked on over the past five years. With a war raging, he could do no less, because he never knew when a particular invention might be useful. Gone were the days when he could create something and forget about it as he moved on to the next idea. Just as with the weapons and vehicles he'd produced for the war, he kept track of everything in his lab and knew the instant something was different. It could be DeeDee rifling through his lab equipment or his father borrowing a microscope or Ben rearranging his drafting tools just to get a rise out of him. Dexter was aware at all times of the things that were his (employees, family, and boyfriend included) and he took care to protect them and prevent their loss or damage.

Why would his Fusion be any different?

He wouldn't be. _That_ was the point, he realized. Albedo hadn't escaped. The Fusion had let him go. Like Dexter, his Fusion would never discard something useful. What's more, it had let him take the cuff and the control for it . . . why?

"Ben," he whispered, understanding. Albedo was in pursuit of Ben and the Omnitrix. Everyone fighting this war knew that. The Galvan was always close by, biding his time, waiting for his chance to seize the watch and regain his true form. The Fusion Dexter was no less obsessed with the Wielder of the Omnitrix, having inherited a twisted version of Dexter's devotion. Why should the Fusion chase after Ben when Albedo could do the job for him? The cuff was too tempting and useful for Albedo to abandon and he had too few resources to leave anything behind, so all the Fusion would have to do to check up on Albedo's progress would be to track the cuff.

Dexter raised his arm to stare at the device with renewed horror. Even though it was no more than a shiny blur of color over his forearm, it filled him with dread. How often would the Fusion check on Albedo? How did it check? Was it something on this end, like when the cuff was activated, or was it a steady beacon? Did it know its human counterpart was wearing the cuff? If it came now, all it would find was . . . him. And if that monstrous creature had Dexter, it had Ben and the Professor and . . . everything.

Nausea gripped him, brought on by stress and fear. Ignoring the aches and pains of movement, Dexter rose and limped to the door. He pounded on it with both hands, deliberately smashing the cuff against the metal plate in the hopes of cracking the device.

"Albedo!" he shouted. "Albedo, open the door! I need to speak to you!"

Once again, he played a dangerous game. After a few long minutes of shouting, he heard door being unlocked. A flicked or fear gripped him in the off chance it was not Albedo on the other side of the door. Even if he got what he was asking for, he was sure to push the Galvan's buttons and face punishment.

"What?" demanded Albedo crossly, leaning against the door frame. Dexter couldn't know it, but he had woken his captor from a deep sleep. Without his glasses Dexter had no appreciation for the Galvan's rumpled appearance and bedhead.

"Why did my Fusion let you go?" demanded Dexter.

"What?" Albedo processed the unexpected question, frowning. He made an indignant face before he realized Dexter couldn't see his annoyance. Instead, he spoke with stern conviction. "I escaped. He didn't release me."

"No," insisted Dexter. "It let you go. If it wanted to keep you prisoner, it would have. It let you go and it let you take this device with you." He held up his arm to display the cuff. "It's tracking you. It wants you to find Ben for it."

The imitation Ben shrugged. "He's welcome to Tennyson. I just want the Omnitrix."

"Do you actually think it would part with either?"

It was a valid point, and Albedo, who knew the Fusion better than anyone save Dexter, made a tiny noise of agreement. Pushing himself off the door, he slowly circled around Dexter as he had at the start of this nightmare, looking him over with renewed interest as he weighed the logic and likelihood of Dexter's conclusions and how he might turn this information to his advantage.

"An interesting argument," he conceded. Leaning in close enough that Dexter could see his red eyes, Albedo's scarred face twisted with a sadistic smile. "Tell me this much, Dexter: are you worth millions? Billions? Or are you worth . . . the Omnitrix?"


	13. Chapter 12: Psycho Prototype

  
He landed lightly on the helipad atop DexLabs headquarters, instantly shedding his Aerophibian form. Ben Tennyson blinked as he suddenly felt the chill in the air and his visible spectrum shifted once again to include blues and greens. Rubbing his aching right shoulder, he glanced at the cloudy sky, half expecting it to rain. Blossom and Bubbles arrived seconds behind him, but rather than bothering to land, they hovered tensely in midair as Mr. Green came hurrying to meet them. A faint cloud of smoke accompanied Dexter's tutor, a sure sign of his emotional state as he tried to keep his agitation in check.

"With me, please. Buttercup is already back and with the Professor," said the Fire Demon, gesturing for them to follow.

"Did someone find him?" demanded Blossom, but Green gestured for silence, unwilling to say anything until they could talk in private. An elevator was waiting for them and they hurried to pile inside behind the demon. The smell of brimstone filled the air, but none of them cared.

"Computress, secure the elevator. No cameras or audio. Take us directly to the Professor and Sgt. Morton," ordered Green. He cast the teenagers an apologetic look. "Sorry for the smoke."

"We've smelled worse," Bubbles assured him, trying for levity. Blossom nudged her with her elbow. This was not the time.

"What's happened?" Ben asked quietly as the elevator began to move.

"An ECF scout found Dexter's ID and tried to use it in the elevators. He's presently being questioned by the sergeant."

Instantly they were clamoring for answers, and all three teens spoke at once.

"Where did he find it? Who is he? Where is he? When did he find it? Did the ID work? Did he find anything else?"

Green raised his hands for quiet. "Except for the fact that our scout is being very cooperative, that's all I know right now."

"Sgt. Morton threatened to give him to you for detention, didn't he?" asked Blossom wryly.

"Yes," admitted Mr. Green, matching her tone. "Apparently I'm the ultimate threat. We deliberately didn't deactivate Dexter's badge in the hopes of something like this happening."

Disappointed, their anxiety growing, Ben and the girls could do nothing but glare at the elevator and will it to move faster and resist the urge to pace in the limited area. The five-minute ride felt like as many years and they all sighed in relief when the elevator slowed, then stopped, and after another eternity, the doors opened. The teens hesitated, none of them recognizing DexLabs' detention center.

"This way," said Mr. Green, leading the way.

He brought them to a room both dull and comfortable where the Professor and Buttercup stood intent on several large monitor screens. With just nods of greeting, Ben and the others joined in staring at the screens and the two people shown at various angles.

A young teenage boy sat at a table with Sgt. Morton. The scout was dressed in a rather unconventional cross of Steampunk and Wild West fashion, and it was difficult to tell where his clothing ended and clockwork devices began. A half-eaten plate of food and a drink were on the table beside him along with a number of maps, Morton's handwritten notes, and a broad-brimmed cowboy hat. They were pouring over one of the maps and talking quietly. It was very telling to Ben that the scout retained his Null-Void gun.

"So what's the deal?" wondered Ben, unable to bear the quiet or his own ignorance any longer. "Where did he pick up the badge?"

"They're establishing the exact spot right now," said the Professor.

"Who is this kid? What's his name? What was he doing when he found it? When did he try to use it?" The questions spilled out in a rush, but the Professor didn't mind.

"His name is Rio Altaca," Utonium explained in soft tones. "He says he found Dexter's ID and lanyard yesterday on that path that goes from the south exit of the employee parking lot to the Downtown skate park. He was heading out on a quick recon and to report in at the Cul-du-Sac, and he didn't get back here until an hour ago when we picked him up. He figured the ID had to be a fake. He didn't think it would work, but he tried it in the elevator anyway."

"Didn't work the way he thought since the first thing he saw was the sarge, me, and half the security team on the warpath," added Buttercup, savoring the image.

Ben frowned, recognizing the route. That shortcut wasn't far from where he and Dexter had snuck out to go to Mr. Smoothy. He'd used it a few times himself. "There are kids on that path all the time and they just found his badge now?"

"Our thought exactly, Ben," said Green. "It was placed there deliberately. Altaca said he'd been on the path the day before and hadn't noticed it then. The badges and lanyard are pretty clean. There are no clear signs of weathering and it's rained three times in the sixteen days Dexter's been gone. Computress is checking it now for fingerprints and any traces of dirt or pollen or anything that can indicate where it's been."

He nodded, torn between intense excitement and crushing despair. So much emotion left him drained and longing for something, anything that could help them find Dexter. This sense of desperation had been unfamiliar until that moment Dexter had vanished, and it had been a constant since then. It was a weight on his back and his spirit. Everything was affected, from appetite to sleep to attitude to being able to think clearly, and it seemed to Ben the whole world was a dark and depressing place for it. Ben dearly wanted the feeling gone. He had never wanted anything so much in his life - except to have Dexter back.

God, what he'd give to have access to Wildmutt, even for an hour. The Vulpimancer probably could have found Dexter or Albedo with ease! He looked down at the Omnitrix on his wrist, glowing and warm. He was at once so powerful yet so completely helpless.

He clasped his hands before him, feeling an odd, tingling in his fingertips. He'd felt this sensation before in times of severe emotional stress, and though he'd never told anyone, he wondered if this might be his Anodite heritage coming to the fore. Gwen was the only one of Verdonna Tennyson's three grandchildren that had practiced and refined the ability to manipulate energy, but Ben and his cousin Kenneth had just as much Anodite DNA in their systems as Gwen. The Omnitrix had overshadowed any interest he might have had in learning to control mana, but the capacity was there. An untapped resource. Strangely, he tended to forget his grandmother was an energy being and he was a hybrid, though it was a constant source of fascination for Dexter. Gwen was always the first one of his family he thought of when the subject was raised.

Ben paused as a thought occurred. Albedo was a perfect copy of him - technically a clone though exposure to Omni energy had permanently bleached his coloring. In this form, Ben's form, Albedo was just as much an Anodite as Gwen or Ken or Ben himself.

So if they couldn't find the human, was it possible, then, to find the Anodite?

Gwen had known when her brother had been seized by the HighBreeds and turned into a DNAlien. She always knew, too, when Ben was sick or hurt and where to find him at those times. No one told her these things - she sensed them. Consciously or not, she was highly attuned to shifts in energy patterns in the people closest to her. Since Albedo was hurt, could she possibly pinpoint where he was? Even a general location would help. Anything to give them a lead. Anything to get Dexter back.

He was heading for the door before he realized what he was doing. Mr. Green and the Utoniums all looked at him, surprised that he was leaving and wondering at his distraction.

"Ben?" asked the Professor.

"Gwen," was the entirety of his explanation as he stepped out of the room. Had he looked back he would have seen five very curious and confused expressions following him, but he was too intent on calling his cousin to notice. It seemed to ring forever before Gwen's voice whispered,

_"Ben, I'm in class!"_

"I need to talk to you right now," he said.

_"I can't!"_

"Now," he insisted.

_"Ben -"_

"You owe me."

There was a heavy pause. He was right and Gwen knew it. He had re-injured his shoulder and faced down Kevin Levin to help her when she had called. Missing a lecture was a small price to pay by comparison.

_"Hold on."_

He could hear her moving about - probably gathering her books - and the sound of a man's voice faintly droning on about chemistry. Listening closely, he felt a desperate pang for Dexter. It wasn't just for his presence, but his safety. Moments later his cousin's concerned voice asked,

_"What is it? What's wrong? Are you okay?"_

"I need you to come to DexLabs immediately."

_"What happened? Are you hurt?"_

"I can't tell you over the phone. Just get here."

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

He surprised them all when he said he would wait at DexLabs when they went to see the exact spot where Altaca had found the badge. He wasn't sure what sort of welcome Gwen would receive since her last visit here - she and Dexter hadn't hit it off by any stretch of the imagination. He had no idea if the Powerpuff Girls knew their brother had locked horns with his cousin, but he was sure Dexter had told the Professor everything and Gwen's response to hearing Kevin had assaulted had not endeared her to the Boy Genius. Right now he had no desire to deal with so many ticked off Utoniums, nor did he want to explain endlessly what he wanted to try. If they had any luck, he would fill them in. If not, Gwen might be able to think of something else to do. Either way, Gwen was the only one who could help him right now.

Rain was still threatening to fall when he sat himself on a stone planter by the visitor's parking lot to wait. That there was a perfectly good bench six feet away never registered with Ben. He was too focused on his idea and all the ways it could go wrong to notice anything. Time dragged by and a chill slowly worked its way past Ben's jacket, seeping down into him and reminding him that he'd had surgery on his shoulder just a few weeks ago. He ignored the desire to shiver or move indoors, wondering what Dexter was feeling at that exact moment. Was he warm? Hungry? Afraid? Had Albedo injured him? Was he even alive? It was maddening and useless to think about, but he could not keep his mind away from his worries.

Almost an hour later, a familiar sound of a car's engine caught his attention. Ben looked up to the unexpected and completely unwelcome sight of Kevin's 1976 Challenger pulling into the parking lot. Instantly he was seething. How dare Kevin come here. How dare he -

Gwen was out of the car and hurrying toward him the moment it stopped, her hands raised in a calming gesture. Before Ben could say a word she explained, "My car is in the shop until tomorrow. He was the only one I could reach on short notice that could get me here, Ben."

He glared at the car and by extension, its owner. Kevin had stirred up all the trouble with Albedo. Why hadn't he left well enough alone? Why couldn't he leave anything alone?

"Ben!" Gwen took his cold hands in hers, bringing him back to the here-and-now and getting a good look at him. Her green eyes flew wide as she took in his condition. He knew he was in rough shape. They all were. Reaching up, Gwen cupped his face in her warm hands. "Ben. What's wrong?"

He closed his eyes, her touch driving home how cold he was and how much he had missed her despite their recent differences. "I need your help."

A few fat rain drops started falling. It would be teeming in just a few minutes.

"What can I do?"

"I need you to find Albedo."

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

He waited while Gwen had a hasty word with Kevin before they hurried inside DexLabs. They ran the last few yards as the heavens opened up, and despite their efforts they were pretty well soaked. Once inside, Ben got her signed in before leading Gwen up the wide stairs in the atrium to the executive conference room that Dexter had converted to a war room. In sharp contrast to Dexter's inhuman organization and need for cleanliness, the room was a jumbled clutter of paper and records since there was so much information gathered during every battle and it could take weeks to sort through. It was Dexter's responsibility to watch and analyze every battle, sometimes helping to deploy troops and weapons from his remote stronghold. Ben shuddered to think of the Fusions attacking now. He wasn't sure he'd be able to fight.

"There are towels in the bathroom," he said, pointing. He knew she would want to dry off. He peeled off his wet jacket and hung it on a chair, figuring the warmth of the room would dry his clothes and hair pretty quickly. Gwen disappeared for a few minutes, and when she emerged she looked considerably neater and carried an extra towel that she handed to Ben.

"Dry your hair or you'll catch a cold."

He smiled as he took it from her, glad to be mothered. It did feel better to dry off a bit. Gwen sat down in one of the few chairs left in the room, watching him intently.

"You want me to find Albedo," she stated.

He finger-combed his hair, sitting on the table. "Yeah."

"Why?"

It was a valid, expected question and quite possibly the last thing he wanted to answer. He steadied himself, drawing a deep breath. "He was here, in Downtown. He must have followed me again. A little over two weeks ago I talked Dexter into sneaking out to get a smoothie and . . . and Albedo kidnapped Dexter. He was waiting for me outside Mr. Smoothy and Albedo took him."

Gwen's mouth fell open in surprise. Just because there was no love lost between them did not mean that she wished Dexter any harm, especially since she knew full well that Dexter and his family had been taking care of Ben after the whole, ugly incident with Kevin and his subsequent injury. Dexter had housed Ben, fed him, and paid for his surgery and physical therapy. Personal dislike aside, the young scientist had her gratitude. "Why?"

"Don't forget it was Dexter's Fusion that tortured him and left him so messed up. That and Dex was with me. Maybe Albedo spotted us in Bellwood after I let him go. I don't know. I just wish I . . . god, I wish I hadn't let him go." He leaned his head into his hands, all his regret welling to the surface. "This is all my fault."

She laid her hand on his knee, knowing what he was like. "You didn't do this. You let Albedo go because he hadn't done anything at that point."

"I should have gotten him help."

"You know he wouldn't have accepted it, especially from you."

"Maybe trying would have been enough."

"You did try. This is Albedo, Ben. He's egocentric and always looking to be the victim."

He sighed. Even though he knew she was right, it didn't help.

"Can you help me?"

"What makes you think I can find him?"

He explained, and she listened seriously. Judging by how pale she grew, it was evident that she had never before considered the possible consequences of Albedo being an Anodite hybrid.

". . . when you focus, you know when I'm hurt. Albedo's hurt and hurting. If we can get even a general idea of where he is, we may be able to find Dexter."

Gwen nodded, warming up to the task. "I'm not sure I'll be able to find Albedo, but I might be able to track Dexter. Remember how I found Cooper's lab? Do you have something of Dexter's, something he used or wore recently?"

A surge of hope, so rare lately that it felt like an entirely new sensation, filled Ben. He looked up and called, "Computress!"

Gwen blinked in surprise as a life-sized hologram of a robotic woman appeared before them.

"I didn't want to disturb you," Computress said, her voice smooth and melodic. "I've finished the analysis of the soil and cement traces on Dexter's lanyard. The soil holds elevated amounts of sandy clay and highly tannic loam as well as pollen spores that indicate a high concentration of white oak trees. The cement mixture came from a company in Dallas, Texas. The same company provided 70% of the cement used in the construction of DexLabs properties and Downtown."

There was a chance, then, that Dexter was close by. "Can you pinpoint where the dirt is from?"

A map sprang up next to Computress, highlighting areas around Downtown. "There are eleven locations in the immediate area of Downtown that match the soil components available. I've alerted the Professor and his party."

"Did they find anything by the skate park?"

"Negative. The Powerpuff Girls are searching these three areas." She highlighted three points on the map.

Ben stood, staring at the projection. "We need to narrow this down. Computress, are you done with Dexter's ID?"

"Yes, for now."

He cast a quick glance at his cousin, and then asked, "Okay if I borrow it?"


	14. Chapter 13: Aliens Made Them Do It

  
  
_"What are you thinking?"  
  
"How'd you know I was thinking?"  
  
"You always make faces and you clench your jaw."  
  
"Huh. Never noticed. Just wondering."  
  
"What about?"  
  
"How bored I'd be right now if I hadn't met you."  
  
"Charmer. So how bored are you?"  
  
"Not at all. Cute nerdy boyfriend, coffee, and the best video game collection in the state."  
  
"In North America."  
  
"In North America. Sorry. But what more is there?"  
  
"Aliens, green eyes, and someone that can explain soccer rules."  
  
"What's your favorite item on that list?"  
  
"The green eyes."  
  
"Really? I figured it would be the aliens."  
  
"I'm on love with you, not your watch."  
  
"But it's a really cool watch."  
  
"Granted, but it only serves to make you more appealing, it's not what attracts me to you."  
  
"Huh."  
  
"If I wasn't a billionaire, would you still love me?"  
  
"The money is nice, but I fell for your brains first. That and you're really cute in glasses."  
  
"So if you were just Ben Tennyson, soccer player, and I was just Dexter, high school nerd . . ."  
  
"We'd still be good."  
  
"Good. You're right, though."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"The money is nice."_  
  
 ** _()()()()()()()()()()_**  
  
"Well? I asked you a question, Dexter."  
  
Dexter could not quite keep from shaking slightly as he drew breath to answer. The havoc Albedo could wreck if he ever got his hands on the Omnitrix was frightening to imagine, especially given his present, unbalanced state of mind and thirst for revenge. Rather than give a direct reply as to his own worth (because he fully believed Ben would gladly give up the watch to get him back), he said, "I believe the Omnitrix's creator might have issue with Ben using the device as a bargaining chip."  
  
"I am the Omnitrix's creator!" shouted Albedo, flaring up. He took a threatening step towards Dexter, his fists clenched tightly. "Azmuth took credit for my technology and research!"  
  
He knew better, but he also knew better than to argue, especially when Albedo was in such a temper. "As you say," he replied, being as non-committal as possible.  
  
"I do say," was the sharp reply, and Dexter felt a jolt of fear course through his whole body at the tone. He didn't need his glasses to know exactly the glare Albedo was giving him right now, the narrow-eyed look made all the worse by red eyes and burned skin. Nothing about the situation boded well for him, and he knew the conversation would inevitably come back to Ben, to him and Ben, and what they meant to one another. Somehow the topic never ceased to fascinate the Galvan, and he obsessed over them like a jealous lover. Dexter knew perfectly well he was the subject of Albedo's fantasies, and he mentally shuddered to think of what they might be. He glanced at the silvery cuff on his arm. Some of those fantasies had been played out with unspeakable brutality. God knew what Albedo had gotten up to when he was unconscious, and Dexter genuinely did not want to know or imagine. Being lusted after by Ben was one thing - it was normal, healthy, expected, and very welcome. Being lusted after by Ben's out-of-control, control freak clone was quite another, and Dexter didn't even care to consider where that might lead. Certainly nowhere that he wanted to go.  
  
Abruptly his chin was jerked up and Albedo was right before him, his fingers digging painfully into his jaw as Dexter was forced to look at the Galvan. "Do you know what I could do to you?"  
  
He knew what Albedo meant. Rape, abuse, humiliation - the threat was growing stale, not that he wanted any of those things carried out. In all truth, he didn't think Albedo had it in him to be a rapist. Despite his promises to inflict all the same perversions upon Dexter that had been inflicted upon him, it took a certain personality to carry out such acts. All bluster aside, Dexter just didn't see the capacity in Albedo. He might think he wanted to do this, might fantasize about it, but actually forcing himself on Dexter was another thing entirely, especially after those disastrous attempted kisses.  
  
"You can cause me pain," said Dexter simply.  
  
The understatement resulted in a knowing smirk that touched only half of the Galvan's face. "Do you know what I could make you do?"  
  
"Nothing you would enjoy or survive intact," he promised in exactly the same tone of voice.  
  
 ** _()()()()()()()()()()_**  
  
 _"Dex?"  
  
"Not a good time, Benjamin."  
  
"Yeah, I noticed. S'up?"  
  
He sighed, pressing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve the pain of a tension headache. "Running a corporation is no easy task."  
  
"I can imagine. What's got you stumped?"  
  
"I'm not stumped, I'm just . . . the Plumbers sometimes seem to forget that despite the success of neo-neurotomics, no one understands it as well as me. They forget I'm sixteen and I can't concentrate only on Null-Void technology."  
  
He didn't need to add what they were both thinking:_ Especially when you're around, Benjamin.  
  
 _Ben's warm hand covered Dexter's and he gently drew the scientist onto his lap. "They're desperate, Dex. Plumbers are already spread thin across the galaxy and now they're trying to do damage control for Planet Fusion and help fight a war all at once. They're lucky the HighBreed are on our side now. They're recruiting heavily, but the Plumber Academy is beyond tough and more than half the recruits wash out. They can't yank me out of here and so instead they hold your toes to the fire."  
  
"Why can't they ask you for help?" wondered Dexter, genuinely confused. He draped his arms around Ben's neck, enjoying the sight of his boyfriend.  
  
Ben smiled. "I won't go. I'm not leaving you until you're perfectly safe. I made that abundantly clear to them the last time they tried to order me off planet to deal with some Incursion issue. Until Planet Fusion is wiped out, I'm staying put."  
  
Awed, Dexter stared at the older teen. He knew how much it meant to Ben to be able to travel off planet, and he had never imagined Ben's extended stay on earth was, in fact, self-imposed exile. All for Dexter. Just to keep him safe. "You told them that for me?"  
  
"Actually, for us. But yeah."_  
  
 ** _()()()()()()()()()()_**  
  
It took a moment for his meaning to register. The last thing Albedo expected out of him was a counter-threat, but he had taken all he could stomach. Obedience had gotten him nowhere. Attempts to negotiate, to connect, to relate, had yielded nothing but torture. Kindness and promises of help had been rebuffed. Trying to show himself as an individual had only resulted in awakening the most awkward, discomforted, and inapt lust on record. What did he have left to lose?  
  
Albedo's eyes grew wide with shock. Dexter took the opportunity to jerk free of his hold as he snapped,  
  
"You want me to love you and to fear you, Albedo. You can't have both. One negates the need for the other." He folded his arms before him, abandoning all pretenses of being a well-behaved captive. The notion that Albedo might be willing to swap him for the Omnitrix was an opportunity Dexter could not afford to let slip away. Before the Galvan could fully digest his words and meaning, he brought the conversation around again, applying pressure from all fronts. "And to answer your question, yes. I am worth the Omnitrix. As a matter of fact, I'm worth far more than the Omnitrix, but I won't argue if you set your price so low since you have very little time. I suggest you contact Commander Tennyson immediately to arrange the exchange before my Fusion decides to come looking for his toy and finds both of us."  
  
"You actually believe Tennyson would hand over the Omnitrix?" was the disbelieving reply, though there was cunning glimmer in those red eyes. "For _you_?"  
  
It was Dexter's turn to frown, and he looked at Albedo as if he thought he was completely out of his mind (which he did) as to ask so foolish a question. With practiced disdain he drew himself up and coldly said,  
  
"Without hesitation."


	15. Chapter 14: Big Damn Heroes

"This isn't working like it normally does."  
  
Ben Tennyson glanced at his cousin in the seat next to him. Gwen dropped her hands into her lap and the DexLabs ID that had been suspended in the air before her dropped down as well. Picking up the badge, she looked at it closely, studying the image of the red-haired, blue-eyed boy. Dexter had challenged her once, and now by his absence he was doing so again - clearly to her frustration.  
  
"Is it all the technology here?" he asked. Much of Downtown had been built around DexLabs into a small metropolis that was a model of modern technology and green energy. Still, he knew that so many machines could and would wreak havoc with Gwen's ability to track people through mana.  
  
"Well, that and . . . all this DexTech stuff is a lot like Cooper's technology. It's got its own feel."  
  
"Is that bad?"  
  
"Actually, no. It makes the stuff that isn't DexTech really stands out."  
  
"Yeah," agreed Ben slowly, maneuvering the borrowed SUV through traffic. Refusing to get into Kevin's car, he had made one call to DexLabs Security and Sgt. Dearborn had given him his choice from Dexter's fleet of vehicles without question. "Neuroatomics and Neo-neuroatomics. Dexter revolutionized physics back when he was ten."  
  
"And he saturated Downtown," she added. "Can we get outside the city a bit? That computer you were talking to hinted Dexter might be outside the city limits and we could be right on top of him here and I wouldn't be able to tell."  
  
He obeyed, turning the SUV onto the long highway that encircled the whole of Downtown. It was raining still and evening was falling, but fortunately neither weather nor time of day affected Gwen's ability to sense and read energy.  
  
"Weird," observed Gwen, looking between the bright and shiny metropolis on one side of the vehicle and the forested hills on the other. "No suburbs."  
  
"Yeah, the city was planned that way," Ben replied. "Dexter owns most of this land, the rest is a state park. He grew up in the suburbs and he hated it, so he preempted any chance of housing developments springing up close by."  
  
"Most teenagers don't think like that," she said under her breath, giving him a look that said there was nothing normal about his friend.  
  
Not in the least offended (because he agreed), Ben smiled a bit and almost laughed. "Most teenagers aren't genius billionaires."  
  
"Can't argue that," was her reply. She focused on the ID, her eyes glowing pink as the badge and lanyard floated into the air before her once again. They were silent for a long while as he just drove, glancing up now and then to check if Kevin was still following them. The green Challenger stayed close behind, unshakable as a shadow. Ben tried not to glower at the idea of Levin helping in any way, but at this point he honestly didn't care what he had to do or who he had to get along with in order to get Dexter back. Nothing else mattered.  
  
"Anything?" he asked after the better part of an hour that seemed to drag out over an eternity.  
  
"Not really," she answered, still intent.  
  
"Is it because you're in a car?" he asked, scrambling to find a solution. Anything. He was desperate. He didn't know what to do if Gwen failed him. "Would it be better to fly you around?"  
  
"It's not the car," Gwen said softly, trying to let him down gently. It was like getting punched in the stomach, so intense and immediate was his disappointment. He knew she felt it and the surge of despair that overtook his whole being. The pink glow faded and she looked at him with even more worry than when she'd first arrived. "Ben?"  
  
"I can't stop, Gwen. I have to find him."  
  
He could feel her stare, and knew the instant she puzzled it out. She blinked, astonished she hadn't realized sooner.  
  
"Dexter . . . Dexter's the one you've been seeing."  
  
It was a simple statement, not an accusation. Silently he nodded, waiting.  
  
"I wish you had told me."  
  
She was disappointed as well, and a little hurt.  
  
"I couldn't," he said thickly. "I promised. It's dangerous for too many people to know. Vilgax almost killed him because of me, Gwen. Besides, he's a lot younger than me."  
  
She looked at him afresh, her interest piqued. "You've always dated girls. I didn't think you liked guys."  
  
"I like Dexter," he corrected. He was glad they were having this conversation. Though Gwen had little use for Dexter and he had even less use for her, she needed to understand how vital he was to the war and to Ben.  
  
Pieces were falling into place for her and things made sense, especially . . . "Kevin knows, doesn't he? That's what was driving him so crazy."  
  
"Yeah, he finally figured it out that night in the warehouse. For all the good it did for him," he added darkly, remembering how Dexter silently dared Kevin to do anything, to say anything with such empty wisdom. Levin had wanted to know who Ben was seeing and now he did - and the price had been far higher than the satisfaction was worth.  
  
"Does Albedo know?"  
  
That was his greatest fear. Here with his cousin, Ben let his emotions show. "God, I hope not, but Albedo is smart. Given that Dexter's Fusion is obsessed with me, he might figure out where that came from."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
She didn't know about Fusions. He was so used to dealing with people who were neck deep in this war that her ignorance was a bit of a surprise and almost refreshing.  
  
"Fusions are made from Fusion Matter and DNA combined," he explained as best he knew. "We don't know why, but some personality traits and interests carry over to the Fusions. The problem is those things get magnified, usually whatever's on your mind most when the DNA was taken. So if you're studying chemistry right now and some of your DNA was stolen and made into a Fusion, there's a good chance it would be obsessed with chemistry and spend its time figuring how to use chemistry in a battle."  
  
"Okay. So why is Dexter's Fusion obsessed with you? Or do I not want to know?" she added with a smirk, trying to lighten his mood.  
  
"We're not sure how the Fusions got Dexter's DNA, but we figure it was pretty soon after he fell in love with me. He's always had a thing for the Omnitrix, but then Dexter's secret little teenage crush got amplified into some alien infatuation on crack. And then the Fusion got his mitts on Albedo. I have him to thank for my shoulder, too."  
  
"He has an interesting way of showing his affection," she said sarcastically. "So given what the Fusion did, Albedo is a victim."  
  
"Technically speaking, yeah. So is Dexter."  
  
"And you, Ben."  
  
He didn't argue. "Albedo handed in his victim card when he kidnapped Dexter."  
  
"I doubt he'll ever see himself as anything _but_ a victim."  
  
He gripped the wheel tightly, tension coursing through his body. There would be no kindness, no offers of help or mercy this time. He had given Albedo every chance and the Galvin had responded by spurning his efforts and kidnapping Dexter. Crazy, damaged, victim or not, he was done with Albedo. Just as he had told Vilgax - declaring war on Ben10 was one thing. Declaring war on the people he cared about was something entirely different and not to be tolerated. He cast her a hard look, promising,  
  
"He'll be sorry he ever hatched when I get my hands on him."  
  
As if she was aware of his every thought - and given that they had grown up together, she probably was - Gwen hastened to get back to the business of finding Dexter. Ben knew that his desperation was infectious and she recognized that there was no time to waste. For his own sake and safety, he knew she wanted Dexter found and Albedo captured. He could feel his fury growing. It was a rare event that he lost control, but when he did the results were usually spectacular. He was very close to unleashing. All he needed was a target.  
  
They were silent for a few minutes. It was getting darker and he figured she must be getting hungry, but he was certain Gwen wouldn't leave for as long as he needed her.  
  
"I'm not getting . . ."  
  
She paused, and the faint trace of a frown on her face gave him hope. "Gwen?"  
  
"What's out there?" she asked, pointing into the distance.  
  
Ben stared, unsure of where they were in relation to DexLabs. "Uh, dunno. Why?"  
  
"There's nothing there."  
  
He sighed, defeated and that much closer to breaking.  
  
Gwen carried on anxiously. "No. No, I mean I can't sense anything there. It's like a hole. There's some big energy signature behind it, but there's . . . a hole in that direction. Like the energy is blanked out."  
  
Unable to recall a similar circumstance, Ben frowned. "That's weird."  
  
"Yeee-ah," she agreed. "I've never felt something like this before. Something is blocking me. It's not like a force field where I can't see past the field but I can still sense it's energy, there's a spot that doesn't register anything. No DexTech, no life force, no magnetism or electricity."  
  
"What can do that?"  
  
She shook her head. "I have no idea. It just stands out compared to everything else around us."  
  
Ben weighed his options for all of a second. "Think you can pinpoint the exact spot?"  
  
She recognized the determination in his voice and rose to the challenge. "I can sure try."


	16. Stalker with a Crush

**Chapter 15: Stalker with a Crush**

"Your answer tells me everything I want to know."

Dexter knew that Albedo was referring to his relationship with Ben. He couldn't let it go. For all his vaunted intelligence, the Galvin was remarkably childish and Dexter opted to ignore any and all insinuations. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, missing his glasses and vainly trying to hold off the headache creeping up upon him. "Your preoccupation with trivialities tells me more."

Albedo still stood close enough for Dexter to actually see him, and there was a glimmer of desire in his red eyes. Albedo's scarred hand moved to stroke his cheek. It took every last gram of Dexter's self-control not to shudder or cringe. Bad enough he had invaded Dexter's personal space, bad enough his hormones were the same as Ben's and therefore geared towards all things Dexter, but if Albedo kissed him again . . . The mere thought made him want to scream.

"So that's how you categorize him?" was the optimistic question.

"You mean my good friend Ben?"

"He's hardly your friend."

Dexter shook his head, wishing Albedo would move away and refusing to budge an inch. He tried to bring them back on topic since they were discussing a prisoner exchange here, and since he was the prisoner in question, it was in his best interests not to lose the thread. "How do you intend to contact him?"

Albedo snorted in derision. "I already left him a message. We'll see if he's intelligent enough to decipher it."

Well, if Ben wasn't, the Professor and Computress certainly were. Dexter said nothing in defense of his lover, preferring to let Albedo underestimate Tennyson once again. Benjamin Tennyson was no fool and far more intelligent than he let on. Not nearly as clever as he envisioned himself to be, the Galvin had a lousy track record against his human twin and his arrogance had been his undoing on more than one occasion. Given the opportunity, he more than likely would continue that cycle of failure. The Boy Genius could live in hope.

Actually, he had little else at the moment. Without his glasses his chances of escaping on his own were just about nil. Still, Dexter was a stubborn thing and now that he was taking a stand he was determined not to be reduced to a state of helplessness. He might be the next thing to blind, but he certainly wasn't going to be silent.

"And what if my Fusion double is also laying its plans?" he challenged, just to give Albedo one more thing to worry about.

"What makes you think he is?"

"Because I would be."

He wondered if Albedo realized that he _was_ laying his plans, small though they may be. As much as he was able, Dexter was determined to add to the alien's stress levels. Why should he be alone in this headache?

"And what would you be doing at this precise moment?" wondered Albedo, and by the depth of control in his voice, Dexter knew he had struck a chord.

Slowly, pointedly, Dexter lifted his arm between them rapped the cuff on his wrist with his knuckles and answered, "Waiting for all my prey to converge on one spot before striking."

There was a span of a just a second or two for Albedo to scoff and dismiss Dexter's fears without losing face. The moment came and went, and once again there was a palpable shift in attitude. Albedo sniffed in derision, then frowned at the smell of an unwashed body in a confined space, as if the situation was somehow Dexter's fault.

"I should just leave you for your Fusion to find, in that case."

"No," corrected Dexter, taking careful aim and speaking with absolute sincerity. "You don't dare. If anything happens to me, Ben10 will kill you."

Let him make of that whatever he liked. It was a simple statement of fact. Dexter took Albedo's silence as agreement, and a moment later the door slammed and he was locked away again. He let his breath out slowly, staring at the door. Talking sense into the Galvan had been a long shot, and unless Dexter was sorely mistaken, he'd completely missed his mark. He closed his eyes, exhausted by the pain in his leg and head and the brave front he'd been keeping up. At this point it was more for his own benefit than for Albedo's, and whatever hope he had left was fading rapidly.

_**()()()()()()()()()()** _

He had called Computress to scan the area for any weird energy readings, but Dexter's super computer had detected nothing, which to Ben's mind was very different from the hole Gwen had described. With Gwen as his compass, Ben maneuvered the SUV through a slowly darkening forest. The roads had started out paved, but as they drove deeper into the state park they became crushed stone, then dirt, and now there was barely a trail. He stopped as a fallen tree barred the way.

"This is as far as we go in this baby," he announced, shutting off the SUV's engine and pocketing the key.

"We're close to whatever is blocking my perception," Gwen replied, intent on Dexter's badge. "I can get a better sense for it now. It's weird. It's not anything natural. From the feel of it I almost want to say it's more DexTech . . . but not quite. Besides, what would it be doing out here?"

"Exactly," he agreed, stepping out of the SUV to note the area for landmarks. "What's it doing out here?"

There was enough tree coverage that the rain wasn't very heavy. Ben keyed his comm unit. "Hey, Computress, does our present location coincide with any of those points on the map that matched the dirt you found? Computress?"

Gwen leaned across the seat. "Maybe whatever's blocking me is blocking her."

Ben frowned. "Seems like." He glanced over as a car door closed and Kevin joined them.

"What's the deal?" Kevin asked, all business. Gwen had updated him on the drive here, so at least Ben didn't need to fill in any details.

Forcing himself to keep a civil tongue in his head and reminding himself that the only thing that mattered was getting Dexter back, Ben said, "Communications are down. Probably from whatever's blanking out Gwen."

Kevin nodded in agreement. "My car radio stopped working about two miles back. What is this place?"

"Ryden State Park," Ben replied. "According to Dexter, there were a bunch of silver mines here. There was a train going through at one point, too." As he spoke he walked to the back of the SUV and opened the hatch. Inside was a heavy plastic emergency kit containing a variety of equipment and, most importantly, flashlights. In true Dexter fashion, the lights were compact and extremely powerful.

Gwen led the way through wet grass and brush. Progress was slow as she picked a path across a narrow valley, over long-abandoned train tracks, and up the side of a steep and rocky hill. Halfway to the summit she paused, and then glanced back at her cousin.

"I'm . . . not sensing anything. That barrier is too strong."

"But it's close," Ben insisted.

"Yeah," she agreed, gesturing in frustration. "It's . . . here." She tightened her hand and focused. A pink glow enveloped her fist, so at least she could still manipulate mana even if she couldn't feel it.

Ben considered, gazing at the Omnitrix a moment before he handed his flashlight to Gwen. Quickly dialing, he slapped down the control, mentally threatening the device if it swapped his choice of aliens for something useless or refused to work.

_"Echo Echo!"_

The small, white Sonarosian seemed almost to glow in the deepening twilight. Instantly he split into two identical beings, and then split again and again. Fanning out, the copies let out a sonic shout in all directions, then stood still and poised as they analyzed the reverberations.

"That won't tip off Albedo," muttered Kevin.

Echo Echo glared up at Levin, demanding in clipped tones, "You got a better idea?" even as another one of the Sonarosians exclaimed, "Up there. There are caves or mines. Just like Dexter said."

Yet a third alien pointed further up the cut between the mountains, deeper into the forest. "There's something out that way. It's small. Super dense. Ground level. It absorbed the shout rather than reflected it. It's moving in this direction, but it'll be a while before it gets near."

"I don't like the sound of that," said Gwen. "Remember I said I sensed something with a big energy signature? That must be what I felt. Any clue what it is?"

"No." There was a flash of light, and suddenly eight Sonarosians became one teenage hero. "But if we get moving, maybe we can get up there and back before it figures out we're here."

"Should we call for backup?"

"One of us would have to leave," Ben said. "Want the keys?"

"We're not leaving you alone," she declared, speaking for Kevin. They both knew he would have refused to go anyway. "Fly ahead," suggested Gwen. "See if you spot anything. We'll follow."

Dr. Cardon was going to have a conniption, but that was the least of his worries. Ben didn't care what he had to do. As if the effect of his glare carried over, the Omnitrix cooperated again.

"Big Chill!"

He snapped his wings wide and leaped into the sky, vanishing into the cold and shadows.


	17. Paint the Hero Black

**Chapter 16: Paint the Hero Black**

He was tired. The days had been long these two weeks and more, long and stressful and frustrating.

Still wearing his full uniform, Chip Morton sank into his office chair with just the faintest hint of a sigh, giving in to his weariness for a moment. Head tilted back, eyes closed, he gripped the collar of his body armor and pulled it away from his neck, cooling off. The search for Dexter was not going well. Not from his end of things, anyway, but he knew he had to keep going. If nothing else, they could say where Dexter wasn't. The analysis of the dirt and dust on the ID badge that had been found had renewed their energy, but the steady disappointments reported by the Powerpuff Girls as they searched the surrounding region had ground their enthusiasm to dust.

Beyond the desperate search for his boss, the day-to-day tasks of running a top-notch security department in an international (and interstellar) corporation remained. Things were made all the more difficult by the necessity of keeping Dexter's kidnapping a secret, and many of his routine tasks had been picked up by Dearborn and Lee, his fellow sergeants. While ignorant of details, both men knew something was amiss and voiced no complaints at their increased workloads.

Still, Chip had served in the Navy and the Navy Reserves for twenty years and if there was one thing he understood, it was paperwork. A stack of reports and forms awaited him on a daily basis, and he took comfort in the mundane routine they represented. For him, it was a means of winding down before facing another miserable, sleepless night worrying about his employer.

Security incidents. Weapons inventory. The Plumbers wanted to schedule a planning meeting with Green, which told Morton to expect some offworld visitors and a headache. Vehicle use and maintenance. Steve from Monster Island asking if they had any buildings they needed demolished. Numbah Two requesting yet another meeting with Utonium to discuss 'stuff.'

Chip paused, frowning, and went back to the vehicle logs. Tennyson had signed out one of the SUV's three hours ago. That was unusual. Normally when he wanted to get somewhere, he just turned alien and flew. He pretty much had free run of DexLabs, but he had never before signed out a vehicle. His interest piqued, Chip said out loud,

"Computress, where's Commander Tennyson?"

"Unknown," said the super computer. Instantly a hologram of her robotic body appeared on the other side of his desk.

"What?" he demanded sharply.

"My sensors are unable to locate Commander Tennyson."

He checked the paperwork. "Track DexLabs vehicle I-17, then."

"Scanning. I'm unable to locate DLV I-17."

"Something wrong with the satellites?"

"Negative."

"Something wrong with your scanners?"

"Negative."

With a frown Morton said, "Last recorded location of that vehicle."

A map was projected above Chip's desk. "An unnamed access road on the southeast edge of Ryden State Park."

"Why did Tennyson take a vehicle?"

"He was accompanied by his cousin, Gwen Tennyson, and Kevin Levin."

That wasn't exactly good, given what Chip knew and had surmised about the relationship between Ben and Kevin, Ben and Dexter, Dexter and Kevin, and Gwen with the lot of them. "Raise Commander Tennyson."

"I'm unable to contact him."

"Boost your signal."

"Still unable."

"Is his comm unit deactivated?"

"Unknown. It would appear he's either underground, off world, or -"

"Something is blocking your scanners. What can do that?"

"Not many things, Chip."

"Right," he said, his suspicion growing fast. He asked, but he already knew the answer. "Then tell me this – _who_ could do that to you?"

"Dexter."

He was on his feet and moving, scooping up his Null-Void rifle and uniform hat as he went. "Dearborn, Schmidt, with me," he ordered as he wove through the high-tech security center. He called to the KND receptionist. "114, call the car pool and tell them to get two heavy duty SUV's gassed and ready. Have 684 take over until I get back. When they get back from patrol, I want all three of the Powerpuff Girls on standby." Until he was sure of anything, Morton did not want to get any hopes up. Not even his own. Still, it felt good to be moving, to have a purpose. Without a word his subordinates fell into step behind him. They strode through the elaborate glass entrance hall of DexLabs, heading into the main building to access the executive carpool. At the doors they met a small pack of child soldiers who were entering the foyer as Chip and his crew were exiting it.

Abby Lincoln knew something was up the moment she spotted them. Sensing action, she stopped in her tracks, holding the door but not quite blocking Morton's way as she dropped the broadest of hints.

"Ain't you lookin' all official there, Sarge. What's the rush?"

He looked at her squarely, and his expression would have made almost anyone other than Number Five quail and scurry for cover. The fact that she stood her ground against him was enough to win him over in that instant. "If you really want to find out, get your gun and meet us at the car pool in seven minutes." Morton's glance swept over her companions, and he recognized almost all of them as KND and ECF, all capable fighters and veterans of numerous battles. "Bring your friends."

"You heard the Sarge!" barked Number Five, trying to keep from grinning in triumph. "Get the lead out, people!"

_**()()()()()()()()()()** _

He hovered in the cold air and gave himself over to the keen senses of a Necrofriggian. With antennae that were far more sensitive than ears and eyes, he ignored the wind and rain and the sounds of his hearts beating as he tried to sense . . .

A vibration. Something humming. Steady. Mechanical. Man made. It was out of place here in this abandoned mine site. Out of place anywhere in nature. Big Chill honed in on the faint disturbance, pinpointing it with his senses before he turned in mid air to face the source. He scanned the craggy hillside, able to tell trees from rocks from dirt even though it was getting too dark even for him to see. Angling his wings, he swept in closer toward the vibration.

Closer, it was more distinct. He pinpointed an opening cut into the mountainside, dark and echoing. He could pick out the beat of pop music against the hum of a battery and the sounds of someone moving about in a chamber. All these signs of life, when there shouldn't have been any. Big Chill felt something like anticipation rise up in him. Had he been human, he knew it would have been fury.

He moved in.

_**()()()()()()()()()()** _

A combination of boredom and frustration kept Albedo pacing around the room he had set up for his own comfort, if comfort was to be had in such a setting. He had found and salvaged ancient and rickety furnishings from the abandoned mine office and had set up a table and chair and something that resembled a spot to sleep. The lighting and radio he had rigged from old car batteries and the mine's existing lightning system. It was brutally primitive, especially for a Galvan, and his resentment at being reduced to scavenging on this backwater pit of a planet and literally existing in a hole in the ground was enough to drive him insane.

The blame for this whole situation he laid directly at Tennyson's feet. The Wielder of the Omnitrix was responsible for giving him this hideous, vulnerable, smelly human body and for trapping him on Earth in the midst of an invasion and for kindling this desire for Dexter.

Dexter. Damn him and his intelligence. Dexter, more than anything, made him feel trapped. Though he would never admit as much to himself, Albedo was sorely regretting seizing Dexter. It had been impulsive and foolish and he was going to have to endanger himself further to make the move pay off as he'd imagined. Tennyson and Dexter's kin, apparently, were too stupid to figure out the clues he'd spoon-fed them. Granted, he could depart at any time and leave Dexter to die or just let him go to wander off blindly into the woods, but . . . he couldn't. Dexter, just by being himself, had brought this situation about. He shouldn't have left himself vulnerable. He shouldn't have reached out and made himself so appealing. He shouldn't have such blue eyes . . .

Another turn about the small, shabby room. He glanced at the dwindling food on the table. Dexter had warned him against eating the stuff he called peanut butter. That was one more thing on the long, long list of reasons to hate Tennyson. Albedo had actually liked the taste and texture of the stuff and he had attributed the tightness in his throat after consuming some to getting sick. Dexter had explained the concept of allergies, and of course this body would be allergic to one of the few foods on this planet that he found palatable. He was also confused as to why the bread was turning green, since these humans insisted on putting preservatives in their foods. They didn't seem to be working very well.

What was he going to do? He wanted to leave, to hide. He wanted to be rid of Dexter. He wanted Dexter to love him and fear him and come with him. He wanted to satisfy this body's burning need to take Dexter, but he didn't know how. His instincts were a jumbled mess of Galvan and human, and they didn't exactly mix. Everything was jumbled. Everything was a mess. And it was all Tennyson's fault. Tennyson's and Dexter's . . .

"Silence!" he hissed at the useless, static-spewing radio, smashing his fist onto it to turn off the annoying drone of what he thought these idiot humans called music but was actually feedback. The universe was mocking him because his blow missed the intended button, knocking over the radio. He wasn't sure how, but Albedo was certain that was Tennyson's fault as well. Suddenly he was fed up with this hateful place and the situation and the people who had brought it about. He wanted to talk, to rage, to frighten something more than he was frightened now, to prove to himself that he was not as helpless as he feared.

Albedo turned, fully intending to go to the old dynamite storage room where he had Dexter locked in to show himself that someone else, at least, was in a worse state than he was. Dexter's poise and stoicism were, after all, just an act Dexter put on for his personal benefit. Strip him of that, and he was . . . what was he? Was this courage an act, or was it . . . Dexter?

He hesitated, frowning into the darkness of the long and drafty corridor cut into the mountain. Something was . . . off. Different. The air was colder. Confused, Albedo took a step back, and suddenly the darkness coalesced into a towering, nightmarish creature with multiple wings and huge eyes. His mind barely registered a Necrofriggian when the huge moth swept down upon him. Cold and powerful hands seized Albedo by the upper arms, lifting him bodily and slamming him against the far wall with a savage hiss. A moment later a flash of dazzling green blinded him, and then it was an outraged Ben Tennyson gripping him, his voice a dangerous growl.

_"Where is he?"_


	18. Rescue Arc

**Chapter 17: Rescue Arc**

Time seemed to stop as he stood in the middle of the smelly, dirty, empty little room, staring off into middle space without seeing anything. For the first time since this ordeal had started, Dexter well and truly gave in to his despair. So much of his focus and energy had gone into keep up a front (for his own benefit as much for Albedo's) that it felt as if he had nothing left. A strange, empty ache filled him, and it almost seemed he was watching himself from some outside plain. If he'd had the wherewithal, he probably would have cried. As it was, he lapsed into a sort of detached daze where his mind and senses shut down, leaving him devoid of everything but misery. For one of the very few times in his life, Dexter had no idea of how to proceed. Every idea and option had been exhausted, and nothing in his experience to this point had prepared him to address such absolute helplessness. It wasn't the isolation, because being alone was usually something he chose. It was, he realized, the lack of choice. Enforced isolation was a cruelty. Alone as he so often was in his lab, he had the freedom to end his self-imposed exile whenever he wanted. As Albedo's prisoner and plaything, he was being punished for existing.

Well. This was what hitting rock-bottom felt like. What a terrible feeling. He had never imagined anything so wretched. It was as if an actual weight pressed down upon him, and he wondered at the physical sensation and discomfort. The only plus he could see was that things couldn't possibly get much worse, nor could his mental state.

An indeterminate amount of time passed in the blink of an eye as he contemplated his position. At first he thought he imagined it, a faint, muffled sound. Correction - sounds. Like voices. Dexter concentrated, trying to hear, but he could not make out any words. Still, it was something new and different, but was it necessarily good? What if it was his Fusion come to claim and enslave him?

The thought of falling into his Fusion double's clutches made him revise his previous conclusion. Things actually could get worse - much, much worse. But would even Albedo risk contact with the Fusion? Dexter seriously doubted it. Once burned, twice shy. And Albedo had been badly, badly burned.

Definitely voices. He could hear indistinct arguing. A moment later the locks on the door were being opened and his heart started racing. Instead of looking up, he kept his back turned and closed his eyes, afraid of disappointment even more than his Fusion.

". . . 's not in here, I swear I'll - _DEXTER!"_

He gasped, his eyes flying open. He whirled around just in time to see Ben slam his back fist into Albedo's stomach, bodily knocking the cheap copy aside. Albedo made a loud sound of 'Ooof!' and stumbled out of view.

"Here! Take it! Now get the hell away from him and _stay_ the hell away from him, you son of a bitch!"

A moment and a flash of green later, Dexter was engulfed in an embrace that was at once powerful and familiar. He could neither speak nor respond. He was too overwhelmed. Ben. It was Ben. Brown hair. Green coat. Ben. His Ben. Finally. He was here. He had come for him. Dexter leaned heavily against the warm, solid figure of his boyfriend, welcoming the crushing-tight hold and the rush of relief and the smell of fresh air and rain that clung to him.

". . . you're alive. Oh, thank god you're alive. Dexter. Oh, thank god," Ben was saying desperately, over and over like a mantra.

Suddenly faint and weak, somewhere Dexter found the strength to move, reaching up to grip Ben's soccer jacket in both hands. He was trembling. Hard.

In response, Ben hugged him harder. "I got you," promised Ben, whispering in Dexter's ear.

"How sweet," sneered Albedo, and Dexter felt Ben turn slightly to face the Galvin. "Back in the arms of your lover."

The frown on Ben's face was evident in his tone. "I can see why you have zero friends."

"No more than you have an accurate definition of friendship," countered Albedo with a disbelieving snort. "You made a fool's bargain, Tennyson, but I expected no less from you. Enjoy your prize."

Dexter gasped as the door was slammed closed again. The bolts were thrown and that brief sense of freedom and hope of escape were snatched away. Panic seized him.

"Ben! No, he - the door!"

"Forget him," said Ben, shifting to hold Dexter at arm's length. "How are you? Are you hurt?"

Dexter gripped Ben's wrists - and a moment later he realized something was missing. "The Omnitrix!"

"Yeah, traded it for you."

He shouldn't have been so surprised. Still, having Ben here filled him with renewed hope, and with hope came focus and purpose. "But how will we escape?"

"He'll be back. Ten minutes tops. Don't worry."

"But . . ."

Ben grinned. "I locked Omnitrix's controls before I gave it to him. Trust me, he'll be back."

And in a rage, if he knew Albedo. Dexter stared at Ben, knowing he was gaping but helpless to help himself. There were so many emotions streaming through him he didn't know which he should feel first. A gasp not far from a wail escaped him, and he laughed a little hysterically. "Ben, he's more dangerous than you know! And - and I think my Fusion allowed Albedo to escape in order to capture you."

"That . . . actually makes a lot of sense," said Ben10, a hint of nervousness in his voice. He pulled Dexter closer to the light to get a better look at him. "First things first, kiddo. Are you hurt?"

"No," said Dexter, knowing what Ben meant. "He's quite insane and he struck me on multiple occasions and left me in the dark for days but . . . overall I haven't been harmed . . . too badly."

"Then I'll just mostly kill him." Ben's hold tightened, steadying and grounding Dexter. "Listen. I know you want to collapse and scream and cry and have a major-league breakdown right now. I do, too. But to get out of here I need you to keep it together. Just for now. Later on you can go to as many pieces as you want, but not until you're safe. Deal?"

"Deal," whispered Dexter, hoping he could hold up his end of the bargain and knowing Ben would forgive him any failings.

"God, I love you, Dex." Ben planted a kiss atop his filthy hair. "Short words - what's up with your Fusion?"

"Look at this." Dexter displayed the metal cuff on his arm. "It's designed to control a captive. It produces an intense, neural stimulation that will pretty much leave you unconscious after you've screamed your head off."

"You know this _how_?" demanded Ben.

"Firsthand experience."

Green eyes narrowed to angry slits. "Albedo made it? Doesn't seem his style."

"No. Apparently I did - or more correctly, my Fusion. He used it on Albedo and later allowed him to take it after he let Albedo escape. My Fusion experimented on Albedo until he got bored with him and let him go, knowing he'd go straight to you."

"Why let him take this?"

"I'm sure there's a homer in it telling my Fusion exactly where it - and therefore Albedo - is."

"Not a homer, Dex," Ben said slowly, realizing. "A dampening field. Gwen said this whole area was like a black hole for energy. Radios and even Computress' scanners are blocked. This must be why."

Dexter was impressed. "I'll have to figure out how I managed that when I get back to my laboratory."

"That explains how we lost track of Albedo so completely after all that fighting in Citisville."

"Ja, well, in the meantime, we must get this thing off of me."

"How?"

"I have no idea. I've been trying, but without my glasses I haven't got a hope. It's controlled by a remote presently in Albedo's possession."

"Dandy," he muttered. Taking a deep breath, Ben continued. "When he gets back here, he'll be royally pissed. He might try to use that thing to get me to unlock the Omnitrix."

"Probably," agreed Dexter, unable to deny so logical a conclusion.

"If he does, I'm going to break his jaw."

He had no issue with that solution. "Okay."

"What does it look like?"

Dexter shrugged. "Like every remote I make - about so long with an antenna at the business end and buttons on the surface."

Ben nodded, staring at him. Gently he brushed Dexter's bruised cheek with his fingers. "I can't promise this won't hurt like hell."

Dexter covered Ben's hand with his own, thrilling to the warmth and longed-for touch. "Whatever he does, don't let it stop you. I just want to go home. I don't care what I have to do to get there, Ben."


	19. Mexican Standoff

**Chapter 18: Mexican Standoff**

Ben, as it turned out, was wrong.

It actually took Albedo a total of thirteen minutes to realize the Omnitrix had been locked out against him and to return to the cell. They spent the time catching up in hurried whispers and anxious looks. Besides Ben, Dexter was worried for his family, boyfriend, company, and the war effort, and he was greatly relieved to hear all of those points were relatively well and all wanting for his attention. For his part, Ben was concerned over Dexter's health - mental and physical - and if he'd been fed, how much, the origins of the bruises visible on Dexter's face, and any long-term effects of wearing the controller.

"I can't say," admitted Dexter. "Dad will be better able to tell us."

The brunet glanced down. "How's your leg?"

"It hurts like hell and I know I can't run."

Ben nodded, glad for the bit of information. "Even if I can't stick close every second, Dex, I'm here now and I will get you out of here no matter what it takes."

The faintest of smiles touched Dexter's lips, and in a hushed tone he said, "I know."

They both started at the sound of someone yelling in fury. Ben took a deep breath, giving Dexter's arm a quick squeeze to reassure him taking a step away from Dexter and bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation with his cheap copy.

"Tennyson!"

Frenzied only started to describe Albedo's mental state as he yanked the door open. Red eyes wide, his scarred face flushed and as twisted in anger as his damaged nerves could manage, Albedo looked positively crazed as he brandished the Omnitrix at them.

"Tennyson!"

"What?" demanded Ben in a tone of voice calculated to shove his counterpart over the edge. It would have worked save for the fact that the Galvin had gone over the edge months prior.

Through clenched teeth, Albedo hissed, "You will unlock the Omnitrix's controls immediately!"

"Not until you let us go and get this thing off of Dexter's arm."

Albedo glanced at the cuff on Dexter's wrist as if he'd forgotten its existence. His look of anger was quickly replaced by one of cunning and he dug in for a siege, saying, "No."

"Then enjoy your new paperweight," invited Ben, meeting stubbornness with obstinance. "Oh, and good luck getting past my cousin and Kevin. They're out there waiting for me to get back."

"Do you know what I can do to your little toy at the touch of a button?"

Ben faced his twin squarely, the advantage his as Albedo bypassed insults and jumped straight for threatening Dexter. "Yeah. I know. Do you know what _I'll_ do to _you_ if you try it?"

"Unlock the controls."

"When we're free and clear, you will be too. I promise."

"Albedo," said Dexter softly, "you are fully aware that my Fusion double is most likely on its way to this location right now. If it arrives, we will all lose. So please, let us go."

"Why should I believe anything you spew?" sneered Albedo, glaring at Dexter. "You've done nothing but lie."

"If I told you any untruths, Albedo, it was simply a survival mechanism your conduct activated. You kidnapped and terrorized me. What was I expected to do? Be grateful?" When the Galvan didn't produce an answer - because in truth, what defense could he possibly mount? Dexter got back to the subject. "But that is immaterial in light of the fact that the most dangerous Fusion known is on its way to this location."

"Not too egotistical even now, are you? I could just let him have you."

Dexter pointed to the device on Albedo's arm. "I'm not what it expects to find at the end of the trail."

"I could lock you in here for him."

"That won't make the Omnitrix useful," Ben pointed out.

"Unlock the controls, Tennyson." The order was delivered through clenched teeth.

Ben stood his ground, unstable though it might be. "Free Dexter, free us, and you've got a deal. Make up your mind fast, though. Kevin isn't known for his patience and personally I'd rather avoid a meet-up with another twin with red eyes."

Silence. They stared across the small distance separating them, no one daring to move. For a moment it seemed as if Albedo would comply and things could be worked out to everyone's satisfaction. Ben felt a hint of relief and hope as Albedo drew back slightly, his expression uncertain.

"It's you he wants," Albedo said softly, fixated on Ben. "Why should you have everything? The Omnitrix, Dexter . . ."

"You took both," Ben reminded him.

"And I can only keep one, is that what you're saying? Why should you make the rules?"

Suddenly a scream of pure agony erupted from Dexter's throat, a sound so terrible and unexpected that for a heartbeat, Ben had no idea what it was. He whirled as Dexter collapsed. Gasping and screaming, the redhead was completely helpless on the ground at Ben's feet. A quick look thrown Albedo's way and Ben knew what was happening - Albedo's nasty little smile spoke volumes. Resisting the instinct to help Dexter, Ben instead launched himself at his copy.

His decision to attack was not the one Albedo expected. The impact of fist into jaw was immensely satisfying even as he felt the strike radiate up his arm and into his shoulder. The assault caught Albedo off guard, knocking him back against the door frame. Ben kept after him, right out of the filthy little cell where Dexter had been confined for far too long. They landed on the dusty floor of the dim tunnel, a mess of limbs and fury. Ben was enjoying every blow he landed and felt nothing of the blows that were returned.

But he needed to end this quickly. He could hear Dexter's pain in every gasping breath. He had to get that remote away from Albedo even more than he needed the Omnitrix back. The Galvan wrenched himself back and away, out of Ben's grasp. He was panting and bruised and dirty, but there was a weird triumph in his red eyes and a savage little smile on his ruined face.

"You don't make the rules, Tennyson," he said. From his jacket pocket he drew the remote. It looked fiendishly simple for the amount of grief it had caused - a knob, a few buttons, a short antenna. With a quick flick, Albedo turned the knob and Dexter let out an unholy scream that echoed through the tunnels of the abandoned mine. Ben had never heard anything so horrible. He cast Dexter a swift glance as the redhead writhed, in too much pain to comprehend anything else, helpless and weakening and completely undeserving of such treatment.

Something snapped in Ben and something primal awoke. He didn't need the Omnitrix. He was Verdona Tennyson's grandson, and though it had lain dormant in him, he had the same spark, the same balance of human and Anodite heritage that Gwen did. It had always been there, but until now, he hadn't needed it. Rage and power built up in him as he whirled on Albedo.

The sight of glowing pink eyes and raw fury gave Albedo as much call for fear as delight. It was an unexpected physical manifestation, but Ben knew instantly that Albedo had hoped and suspected it was possible, and given the chance the Galvan would do everything in his power to harness this latent ability. Ben let out a scream of his own that was less sound and more shock wave that tore through the air. The few yards that separated them was nothing to Ben. His body glowed with a pink aura as he thrust his open hand at Albedo with all his newfound might. The power of the gesture caught Albedo in its current and hurled him down the tunnel. He landed heavily, unconscious before he hit the ground. Ben glared, spotting the fallen remote, and with the smallest of gestures he snatched all the energy out of it, deactivating it.

Instantly there was a shift in Ben's focus as Dexter stopped screaming. The scientist was breathing in quick pants and gasps as his body began to react to so much pain being stopped so suddenly. Slowly Ben dragged his mind away from imagining ways to destroy Albedo atom by atom and back to the person who needed him most right now, the one he'd promised to save. He looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling the energy flow through him. It was part of him, yes, but not the greatest part. Gwen had been tempted by the power of her Anodite form, and Ben sensed that the least nudge out of Albedo would be enough to push him to that point. But he was not his cousin. He had known great power since he was ten years old, and he was long past any desire to be selfish with it. His heritage would not define or rule him.

Dexter pushed himself up with arms that trembled and quaked. He was crying and drooling and his nose was running and his throat was afire and every nerve in his body was still engaged. He fell, then tried again. After fighting to swallow, he looked up with eyes that were almost useless to see a strange light. He had no idea of what it was he saw or what had transpired. He only knew the pain was gone.

"Ben?" He could only whisper. He tried to stand and gave up the effort immediately as an impossibility. "Ben?"

His priorities reset at the sound of Dexter's confusion and fear. Destroying Albedo was not his goal. Finding and freeing Dexter was why he was here. Power he had. It was love he wanted and needed. He closed his eyes, calming his emotions, carefully pulling away from his grandmother's legacy to bring himself back to being plain old Ben Tennyson.

Abruptly he was exhausted beyond measure. His legs gave up supporting him and he found himself sitting on the ground, staring at the shadowy heap that was Albedo and rather amazed at how far he'd thrown his cheap copy. He twisted slightly as Dexter, even more worn than Ben, managed to crawl the few feet between them. He settled heavily against Ben's side, still shaking and shaken. Ben wrapped an arm around him, pulling him tight and close. There was so much to say and do yet, but still neither spoke. They weren't out of the woods by a long shot, but still they indulged in a long moment of simply being together again. Resting his head against Dexter's. Ben could see the bruises and tears on his boyfriend's face and suddenly in his mind and heart Dexter was the most wonderful thing in all creation. He stared at him, falling in love all over again.

"Come on, Dex," he finally said, squeezing him even tighter. "Let's go home."

Dexter nodded, and softly begged, "Please."


	20. Fit to be Tied

**Chapter 19: Fit to be Tied  
**

"I need your belt."

Dexter blinked, only now realizing that Ben was no longer at his side. Rocking back on his heels, he started to comply when Ben said,

"No, from your coat. I don't want Albedo getting smart and trying something."

His hands were clumsy as he pulled the long fabric belt off his waist. He almost laughed to see how sections of it that had been covered were still clean and white. The rest of him was too filthy to think about. He held it out for Ben, and as he took it, Ben paused just long enough to give Dexter's hand a gentle squeeze. Dexter knew his boyfriend was trying to reassure him, and he tried his very best to let Ben's efforts work. With detached interest, he watched as Ben secured Albedo's hands behind his back with unexpected efficiency. The Galvin was still out cold, and therefore offered no resistance. Dexter was a little surprised to hear his own voice asking,

"Where did you learn to tie up a person?"

"Soccer camp," Ben replied, never missing a beat.

"Such interesting extracurricular activities you pursued. I'm impressed."

"Goalies have to be ready for anything. Want me to teach you?"

"Yes." The answer escaped before he could stop himself, and even to his own ears he sounded dead serious.

Ben looked up, and even without his glasses, Dexter could see his wide grin. "I swear you were made for me."

That Ben could smile and joke even now meant the world to Dexter, and despite his fear and complete exhaustion he came close to smiling. If he'd had the energy, he would have blushed. Still, their situation was desperate and dangerous, very much so. They had a long way to go before they were safe.

"You have the Omnitrix?" he whispered.

"First thing I grabbed."

He held up his wrist with the wide cuff. "Can you get this off me, then?"

"Gimme a sec."

He paused to double check the knots around Abledo's wrists before rejoining Dexter. Ben crouched, studying the device for a long moment in the wane light coming from the storage room that had been Dexter's cell.

"I think my best bet is to freeze it and smash it, Dex."

"Have at it. Mr. Tennyson."

Ben dialed the Omnitrix. Dexter could see the green glow of the device. It was surprisingly comforting.

_"Big Chill!"_

Dexter didn't react as his elbow was lifted by long-fingered, blue hands, and he struggled on stiff legs to rise. Big Chill steadied him.

"Sorry if this hurts," rasped the Necrofriggian, and Dexter only shrugged in response. After torture, being hurt was relative.

Leaning his face close to the cuff, Big Chill let out a quick, focused breath of air along its length. Dexter shifted automatically at the freezing blast that went through the metal and fabric and into his arm. Frost swirled across the cuff, and with a quick, sharp strike, Big Chill shattered the metal. Immediately he peeled the rest of the device off of Dexter's arm, easily ripping the metal apart before throwing the pieces well away. A sniff escaped Dexter as he fought the urge to cry in relief. A moment later, the Omnitrix powered down and it was Ben holding his arm and smiling at him.

"Let's go, Kiddo."

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

Gwen gasped at the sudden release as her perception was restored. A wave of sensation struck her and for a moment she reeled. Beside her, Kevin put a steadying hand on her arm.

"You okay?"

"Whatever was blocking me – it's gone. Check the comms."

He checked his Plumber's badge. "Working. Who you wanna call?"

She cast him a look by the faint glow of the badge. "DexLabs has some pretty scary security officers. Maybe we should call them."

"Yeah, their boss is an arms dealer. They'll have guns. Good think-"

_"-nder Tennyson, this is Numbah Five. You copy me, Ben? Five to Ten, you out there, pal?"_

They jumped in surprise at the sudden call, and then twin sighs of relief escaped them. Gwen activated the badge to whisper, "This is Gwen Tennyson, Ben's cousin. We're in Ryden State Park. Ben is checking out an old mine near our location. He must have found or done something because there was a dampening field up until a few seconds ago."

_"Copy that, Ten2. We concur. I'm with DexLabs Security and some ECF troops en route to your location. We're homing in on the DexLabs vehicle Tennyson signed out. Is Ben close? Have you seen what's his name – Albedo?"_

Kevin snickered to hear Albedo get dissed in absentia. "No sign of either of them yet."

 _"Mr. Morton wants to know if there's any sign of . . . Dexter? You kidding me, Sarge?"_ Numbah Five asked to the side. _"I thought he was stuck inside until the end of the war."_

The girl's voice was uncertain, and Gwen realized she must not know that Dexter had been the victim of Albedo's wrath. Given his status in the war, it made sense to keep his disappearance a secret.

"No sign yet," Gwen replied. "It's been about half an hour since Ben left. I have to let you know – there's something headed this way. Something small and really powerful. It's closer than I thought before."

_"Any idea what?"_

"No," she said, hating to admit to fear, "but I really don't like the feel of things."

_"Hold tight. We'll be there soon."_

**_()()()()()()()()()()_ **

A kick or two to Albedo's rib cage delivered by Ben's foot was enough to rouse him. He was scowling even before he realized his arms had been secured. As soon as he figured out that not only could he not move easily but every advantage had been stripped from him, he tried to lunge at Ben. One raised knee stopped the attack before it – or Albedo – got off the ground and he dropped heavily onto his butt.

"Stop wasting our time, Albedo," snapped Dexter, glaring at the seething Galvin. "Make any unnecessary noise and I swear I'll have Ben gag you with one of my socks. You _know_ how long they've been on my feet and you _know_ how long it's been since I bathed."

The threat was enough to silence even Albedo.

"Get up," ordered Ben.

"If I refuse?"

"You've got two choices, genius," Ben replied. "You come with us and face the music for what you've done and maybe even get some help for being such a world-class jackass, or I lock you in that pit where you had Dexter and maybe, _maybe_ I remember to tell someone who gives a rap where to find you."

For a long moment Albedo considered, staring at Ben and trying to decide if he'd keep that promise. It seemed the risk was too great that Ben would be a man of his word, because with a grimace he climbed to his feet, glaring at his bound hands, Dexter, Ben, the Omnitrix – everything, really.

"Take my hand," Ben ordered, reaching out to Dexter. He closed his hand over the familiar smoothness of latex gloves, gripping tight to still Dexter's trembling. "Stay close. Let's go."


End file.
